The Incredible Shrinking Sam
by mamapranayama
Summary: While getting to know each other again as brothers and partners, Sam and Dean run into a rather small problem. Set season one. Now Complete.
1. Prologue

_Disclaimer: I own no part of the Supernatural series, just my collection of DVD's._

_A/N: Everyone's been writing such incredible, but sad stories lately that I felt the need to lighten the mood a little. So, I'm going back in time to the first season where Sam and Dean were still getting used to working together again and they run into a rather small problem. Let me know what you think or if I should even continue this._

_Warning: There is some bad language ahead_

**The Incredible Shrinking Sam **

**or **

**Big Things come in Small Packages **

**or**

**Let's get Small!**

By Mamapranayama

**OOOOOOOOOOOO**

**Prologue**

"Ooomph!" Sam barely had time to register the collision with the man before he found himself falling backward and landing squarely and rather painfully on his ass. A walk in the park had seemed like a good idea after his latest fight with Dean at the time, but he should have been watching where he was going and should have taken his head out of the clouds and paid closer attention to his surroundings. Dad would have had a fit knowing how poor his situational awareness had become since going off to college.

However, hindsight is 20/20 and now he had a sore butt to prove it.

"Sorry...I didn't see you there." Sam offered an apology and a hand to the man while trying to get up off of the sidewalk.

"Jeez, man." The other guy grumbled, rubbing his own sore bottom.

"Sorry...I'm really sorry." The other man took Sam's preferred hand and let him haul him up, grabbing firmly onto his wrist. Once standing, Sam realized just how short the other man was, he couldn't have been any taller than 5 feet, coming up no further than to Sam's chest.

"Ever heard of watching where you're going?" The man asked, quite incensed.

"Look, I'm sorry. I just didn't see you there."

"Why? Because I'm so short you couldn't see me from way up there?" Okay, maybe the guy was more than just incensed, he had a chip on his shoulder the size of the Grand canyon.

"That's not what I meant. I just had things on my mind..." Sam tried to explain.

"Sure..." The man shot back sarcastically. "Or maybe the air up there is so thin that it's cutting off the oxygen to your brain."

"Dude...I said I'm sorry, it was an accident. I don't know what else you want me to do?"

"How about you spend some time in my shoes? You think it's easy being so short that sasquatches like you plow into you all the time?" And with that the little man shook his head in disgust and stomped off, leaving Sam behind in a cloud of confusion.

OOOOO

Ray McClennan was short. He knew it, everyone knew it. It wasn't like he was a dwarf, he just never grew and it had always bothered him. He was the one that was picked last in school for dodge ball, he was the one that had his lunch money stolen and he was the one that always had to look up to people. For once he just wished those jerks he had known growing up knew what it was like to be him. Maybe then they wouldn't have been so cruel.

But recently things were getting worse and he was having a hard time finding meaningful employment. He believed he could be a decent construction worker, but every site he tried to find a job at had the foreman nearly laughing in his face seeing how small he was. None of them thought him capable of that kind of labor. Even the Army had rejected his application, saying that he had to be at least 5 ft tall and he was just shy by only an inch.

Taller men never had to put up with this shit. People looked at a tall man and saw someone they could see as being a competent worker or even a force to be reckoned with. But when people looked down on him, all they saw was a joke waiting to be made.

And now, after his little run-in with that giant asshole that hadn't been watching where he was going, he was reaching a breaking point.

Angry and still sore from where he fell on his rump, he turned the key in the apartment door and flung it open, storming inside.

"Jesus, Ray. Give a girl a heart-attack why don't you?" Across the room, his older sister, Lizzy sat at the little cafe table reading a thick book, her black dyed hair whipping around as she turned an annoyed eye his way.

He practically ignored her as he walked over to the couch and flopped down with a loud, defeated sigh. Lizzy could always pick up on his moods and this time was no different. "What's the matter? You having more trouble finding a job?"

He didn't answer her, instead he flipped on the TV and began channel surfing. Truth was, he had just come back from seeing the Army recruiter when he decided to take a short cut in the park and had his collision with gigantor. He was most definitely not in the mood to talk, especially not to his freakazoid sister.

But Lizzy didn't pick up on his less-than subtle hint that he wanted to be left alone to brood. Instead, she flipped shut her book and walked across the room, taking the spot on the couch next to him and flicking him on the ear. "C'mon, Ray-Ray. You can talk to me. What's going on? Why you so down?"

"Don't call me Ray-Ray....It's just Ray. Ray-Ray's a chubby twelve year old."

"Gosh, someone's got his panties in a bunch. C'mon...you're my little brother, I want to help."

"Yeah, I am little..."

"Oh. Is that what this is about? Has someone been messing with you?" She asked, a dangerous glint lighting her eyes as though she would go out and find the bastard that had dared to make fun of her brother and make them pay.

God. It was bad enough being as short as he was but having to have your sister stick up for you all of the time was way worse. Though if he was honest with himself, if it hadn't been for Lizzy and her job at the used book store, then he wouldn't have any place to live. He owed her a lot and was grateful for her help, but it was still hard to accept it.

"It's nothing." He tried to convince her.

"Tell me." She insisted, not buying it.

"No."

"Tell me." She grabbed his arm playfully and twisted it. "Or I'll break your arm."

"Fine." He relented. "If you must know, I went to the recruiter today and guess who's too short to even get shot at...Yep, that's right, this guy. " He pointed to himself. "And then just to put the cherry on top of my shitty day this behemoth runs right into me in the park. Didn't even see me. God...what I wouldn't give to teach them all a lesson."

"Hmmm....a lesson eh?" Lizzy looked off thoughtfully. "That gives me an idea."

"Well don't let it hurt you." Ray quipped back only to be rewarded with a slap to the back of the head.

"Will you just listen, stupid."

"Alright then, what's your amazing revelation?"

"Well, maybe we _could_ teach them a lesson....you got anything that the recruiter or that guy in the park touched or owned?"

"Nah, I didn't take anything from the recruiter. But..." Ray pulled out a shiny, gold colored watch with a grin growing on his face. "I did manage to swipe this from the bigfoot in the park when he helped me up. Stupid kid probably doesn't even realize it's gone yet."

Ray may not have had much luck in the job department, but he made a pretty decent pick-pocket.

"That's perfect." She held out her hand and he dropped it into hers.

"What ya need it for? I was planning on hockin' it."

"You'll see." She got up and headed back to the table where her book sat and she picked it up, flipping through the pages. Ray recognized the book. It was a heavy, leather bound tome with a pentacle embossed over the cover that she had been reading over and over again lately.

His sister had always been as weird as he was short, but recently she had begun an obsession with all things supernatural that frankly had him a little scared for her. She had also changed her appearance dramatically, dying her hair from blond to black then wearing all sorts of black dresses and put on heavy, black eyeliner, making her look more like a goth Elvira than the big sister he had grown up with. It wasn't too long after that that she had started dabbling in witchcraft, reading anything she could get her hands on about magic spells and incantations from the book store where she worked. He didn't really believe in all of that magic crap, but his sister sure did.

"What are you gonna do, put a spell on the guy?" He asked with derision.

"Yep." Was her curt reply.

"What? You can't be serious. You know that shit is just nonsense, don't you?"

"Oh ye of little faith, Ray. Remember Rebecca Thomas, that slut that slept with my boyfriend last month?"

"What about her?"

"Well, thanks to this book I was able to give her a little case of genital herpes that won't be going away anytime soon."

"That's bullshit."

"Oh yeah?" She started pulling out candles, jars filled with things he didn't want to know about and all sorts of strange amulets and charms he didn't even know that she owned. "Just you watch. We'll teach that guy a lesson he won't soon forget."

**TBC....**


	2. Chapter 1

_A/N: Thank-you for all of you that have read this story and commented so far. I've been a little on the fence about whether or not I should continue this as it hasn't really been well recieved, so if you have any suggestions as to how to improve this, please don't hesitate to let me know. As always, I appreciate any sort of feedback..good or bad.:D_

**Chapter One**

Dean heard the key turn in the lock just before it swung open and in walked his little brother. He hastily turned off the TV. No need for his brother to know that he'd been watching the afternoon _Lifetime _original movie, even if it had been a pretty good biopic about Monica Lewinski.

"Hey" Sam greeted somewhat sheepishly and rightly he should. Dean had only suggested that a little training might benefit the kid since he had been out of the family business for so long . But, noooo. Sam had gone off on him, telling him that there was no time for that when they had a spirit three blocks away haunting a local bed and breakfast. Thankfully, the spirit hadn't killed anyone yet, just knocked a cleaning lady down a flight of stairs and gave her a broken arm. Dean saw that they didn't have to rush into this one, no one was dead and the incidences of any malevolent activity was pretty few and far between. But Sam had different ideas, wanted to research and look into the place right away. A shouting match ensued after that, ending with Sam slamming the motel door on his way out to God knows where.

Dean had only hinted, okay maybe not so much hinted as blatently pointed out that Sam's time away from the hunting world had made him somewhat rusty. Granted he had done pretty good at keeping his shit together with the lady in white and the wendigo, but only a couple of days ago Dean was the one that had to watch as some pansy-assed, pudgy ghost that looked like he could have been an accountant when he was alive got the drop on Sam and had sent him sailing clear across a graveyard and smack into a tree.

He knew then that he needed to get Sam focused again and get him back up to snuff. His little brother was distracted and it hadn't escaped Dean that he wasn't sleeping and eating as well as he should. But trying to convince Sam that he was both of those things was nearly impossible. While it was good to be on the road again with his brother, he was finding that the kid was just as pissy as ever.

He knew also that Sam was still reeling from losing Jessica and now with dad missing, he had issues galore. But when the damn kid wouldn't even answer his phone after he stormed out, Dean was ready for a smack down.

"Where have you been?

"I just went for a walk. "

"And what's with not answering the phone, huh? God, you could have been anywhere or in trouble and I wouldn't have known."

"I'm not ten years old, Dean. I think I can handle a walk in the park." Sam shot him a patented bitch face that only he could pull off before going to his bed and parking himself on it with a petulent glare in Dean's direction.

"Do you even know how long you've been gone?" Dean allowed the irritation and worry he had been feeling since Sam took off come through loud and clear in his voice.

"I wasn't gone all that long." Sam shot back.

"You've been gone for almost two hours, Sam." Dean came back with equal force.

"No I haven't. It's only been..." Sam raised his wrist then froze, seeing it was bare. "Awww...dammit."

"What?"

"My watch is gone. That's what." Sam's jaws began making a grinding sound loud enough for Dean to worry that he might have to run his little brother to the dentist for emergency tooth repair. "And I have a pretty good idea who took it."

"Who?"

"Some man I ran into in the park."

"What? So, you're just letting some random guy get one over on you like that?"

"When I said I ran into him..I meant I literally ran into him. I wasn't paying attention and I knocked him down. He must have taken it when I helped him up."

Dean felt a small smile begin to curl around his lips "And you're just now noticing that it's gone. Dude, I think this only goes to prove how lax you've let yourself become these last few years. I have to say I'm a little embarrassed for you."

Dean saw his little brother slouch in defeat, taking on the look of a wounded puppy before he threw his head back with a sigh. Yep, even Sam was embarrassed about the fact someone had managed to swipe his watch without so much as a fight.

"So...about that training, Sammy....Sure you don't need it?" Sam growled again at Dean's suggestion and hung his head.

"Fine...You win." Sam grumbled lowly. "You were right."

"What was that?...I didn't hear ya. " Dean found himself grinning. God, he loved hearing those words come from the brother who was convinced that he was always right.

"You were right, okay?" Sam threw up his hands. "I guess I could use a little brushing up." He sighed heavily again. "What do ya want to do first?"

"Change your clothes. We got some sparring to do and pack your gun we'll do some target practice after that. Our ghost can wait a little longer."

OOOOOOOOOOOO

Ray bit his lip nervously. Lizzy had set out a black cloth with a pentagram in across the middle of the cafe table. After that she lit several candles, lighting up the darkkened room with an eerie glow.

Next came the silver chalice in which she started dumping all kinds of crap. He wouldn't have been surprised if eye of newt and toe of frog ended up in the bowl as well, especially after she threw some old chicken bones in for good measure. It was all a little gross in his opinion, but if Lizzy thought it might work, then he was all for it.

Lastly, she took the watch Ray had stolen from the Goliath in the park and plopped it into the bowl with the rest of the concoction. She then lit a match and dopped it into the pot, causing a flash of flame and a burst of acrid, horrible smelling smoke to float around the room.

"Jeez that stinks. You sure this is gonna work?" Ray asked skeptically, pinching his nose to keep the smell from entering his nostrils.

"Of course it will. Just stop your bellyaching and be quiet." She grabbed the book next and flipped through the pages. "Where was that spell? ...Let's see...ah, here it is...."

"God, Lizzy. The smell is getting worse. The neighbors are gonna complain."

"Shut it, will ya? I need to recite this."

Ray grumbled, but held his tongue as Lizzy cleared her throat dramatically and began chanting in latin. He had no idea what she was saying, but it sounded like one of those hokey spells you might see the chicks on _Charmed_ say. He might have laughed at her the way she was taking all this magic crap so seriously, but just then a gust of cold air blew through the room from nowhere, sending shivers up his spine.

"Shit..." He breathed in sudden anxiety. They were in way over their heads, he thought.

"Well...that should just about do it." Lizzy said just as she finished her chant and shut the book with an air of satisfaction and a little grin his way.

"That's it?" Ray wondered, looking around, wondering suddenly if they were going to be swept up another cloud of smoke and turned into frogs or something.

"Yep. That's it." Seeing that his skin hadn't turned green and slimy, Ray let go of the breath he had been holding and shot a grin back at his sister.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

Sam found himself falling. The next thing he knew, his shoulder was hitting the grass hard before his arm was yanked up and out in a classic arm bar. One pull on on his wrist and he knew that he wasn't going to win this one and tapped Dean on the side, letting him know that his big brother had won yet another sparring match.

Dean let go almost immediately. "That was lame, Sammy. Even for you. C'mon...get your head in the game here."

"Sorry."

"Don't be sorry, just focus for God's sake."

"I'm trying."

"Well, stop trying and just do, there is no try." Sam rolled his eyes at the Star Wars reference. He couldn't count the number of times he'd heard Dean use that line on him. But he had to admit he missed it while he was away at school.

"Dean, you make one crappy Yoda, ya know that?"

"Shut-up, Bitch. Just be glad I'm not having you carry me on your back and making you lift rocks with your mind while doing a handstand, young Skywalker. Now, get up....C'mon let's do it again and don't forget to actually dodge my punches this time."

Sam sighed heavily. He was already tired of this and they'd only gone a few rounds so far. Truth was, he was exhausted. He hadn't been sleeping well...or rather hardly at all and his body was telling him that burn-out wasn't far off. At least, he hoped, he would be so tired after all of this that he might actually get a decent night's sleep without the threat of nightmares.

Pushing himself off the ground, Sam made himself ready, taking up a fighting stance. That's when a sudden gust of wind hit both he and Dean in the face. Sam felt a powerful heat course through his body followed by an odd tingling sensation. Before he could understand what was happening, the world tilted on its axis and he was caught up in a reeling and nauseating bout of dizziness.

If it hadn't been for Dean catching him, his face would have been eating the ground.

"Whoa...you okay?" Dean asked in concern.

Sam took a moment to regain his balance until his vision stopped spinning. As it faded, he looked to Dean who was still holding him by the arm. "Yeah...just got a little light-headed. I'm okay now."

"What was that?"

"I dunno...I just felt weird for a second there." Sam straightened as if to prove to his over-protective brother that he was indeed fine now, but Dean still looked at him like he was going to drop at any second.

"Guess that's enough sparring and training for today. Why don't we go get some food in ya, huh?"

Sam wasn't really hungry, but he knew that Dean would never stop bugging him about how he was doing if he didn't let him take care of him a little bit.

Dinner was take-out from the chinese place across the street from the motel with Dean hovering over him more than he would have cared for and forcing more and more greasy, moo-shoo-whatever-it-was on him. Sam ate as much as he could stomach, which admittedly wasn't a whole lot. And for the rest of the night, he just couldn't shake the feeling that something was off, but whatever it was, he couldn't put his finger on it.

Deciding that a nice, hot shower was in order after their workout earlier and his little spell, ( which he refused agree with Dean was a fainting spell) he allowed the water to pound against his skin and soothe him until it ran cold. Dean was gonna have a fit that he used all of the hot water but right then, he was just to tired to care.

After drying off, he reached for a clean t-shirt and pair of sweatpants to wear to bed. Slipping them on, he noticed the looseness in the waist-band and how the shirt wasn't as tight across his chest as he remebered it being. Maybe he was losing weight. It wasn't like he had much of an appetite lately and the stresses and pure phyicality that hunting brought with it were more than likely taking a toll on his physique.

Mentally shrugging and without thinking much more about, Sam dragged his tired ass to bed and flopped down, asleep almost before Dean began to bitch about the hot water.

TBC.....


	3. Chapter 2

A/N: My heart-felt thanks goes out to everyone that has read or reviewed this story so far. I think I was having a little crisis of confidence with the last chapter, but y'all have made me feel so much better about this story. So, here's the next chapter. I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think of it. :D

**Chapter 2**

"So...how do we know if it worked?" Ray suddenly wondered while Lizzy put away all of her creepy, witchy paraphernalia and he opened a window to help get rid of some of the awful, rotten egg smell that lingered in the apartment.

"Oh...I hadn't thought of that." Lizzy drew her lips down, looking a little embarrassed by her oversight.

"Christ, Lizzy. What was the point in doing all of this if we don't get to see the results?"

"Give me a minute to think." She knitted her brow together in concentration and he worried that she might pop a blood vessel from the effort. "You know where this guy might live?" Was the best idea she could come up with.

"What do you think?" Ray shot back in frustration. "It's not like we exchanged addresses and phone numbers."

"Addresses..." Her eyes lit up after he said that. "Ooooh. That gives me an idea."

"Oh boy...not another one..." Ray lamented.

"We'll scry." Lizzy seemed to bubble with excitement while Ray was just confused.

"Scribe? What are you gonna do, write a letter?"

"Not scribe, moron. _Scry. _You got a map of the town?"

"We've lived here our whole lives, why would I need a map?"

"So we can track him down."

Ten minutes later, Ray was back from the convenience store across the street with the only map of Manitou Springs, Colorado that he could find. It was one of those tourist maps that had cartoons of all of the attractions the town had to offer, but it would have to do.

"What the hell is this?" Lizzy asked, grabbing the folded paper from his hand.

"It's a map. What'd you think it was?"

"It doesn't even have all of the streets listed on it."

"Well, soooory, but it's all they had and I'm not going to Wal-Mart on a Friday night."

"Just hand it over." Lizzy griped as she swiped the map from and unfolded it, laying it flat across the table. After that she took her necklace with the crystal dangling from it off of her neck.

"What ya gonna do with that?"

"I just told you." She replied sounding irritated. She let the pendant dangle over the map. She then began chanting. More Latin, he guessed. "Phasmatis atrum, ostendo vir nos...nos...oh shit, Ray hand me the book."

Ray shook his head, his sister was really one piss-poor witch he was finding out. He grabbed the book and she hastily took it from his hands, quickly flipping through the pages until she found the words she needed to recite. Keeping the book open with one hand she brought the pendant back of the map and let it hang loosely before she began reciting again "Phasmatis atrum, ostendo mihi vir nos peto."

Over and over again she spoke the same words until the pendant in her hand began to move in circles on its own. "Whoa..." Ray exclaimed in amazement as it started to swing faster and fast into a wider arc until it suddenly stopped mid swing, pointing at a spot on the map.

"Holy shit, Lizzy. Is that where he's supposed to be?"

"According to the spirits ,that where he is." Ray chanced a glance over at his sister. All this witchcraft stuff was still pretty hokey to him, but he had to admit, that making the pendant stop in mid-air like that was quite impressive and not just a little bit scary. He had no idea what they were dealing with here, but the confident look on Lizzy's face, eased some of those fears. He just hoped she was as competent at all this as she projected.

"Looks like he's staying at the Pike's Vista motel." He pointed out the colorful cartoon that the pendant had landed on.

"Ewww. " She pulled a disgusted face. "That place is a dump. Can't believe that it's still in business."

"Yeah, but it's cheap."

"Okay...tell you what." Lizzy took up the pendant again and put it back on. "I have to go to work, but first thing in the morning we'll go down to the motel and see if we can get a look at our handiwork."

OOOOOOOOOOOO

Sam woke as soon as the first rays of light began to filter through the bent and smoke-yellowed mini-blinds. As usual, their accommodations were decidedly less than stellar and would have made the tenants in a roach motel shiver, but the bed had been comfortable enough and he was pleased that he had slept the entire night without a single bad dream or nightmare. He must have really worn himself out the other day for that to happen.

He glanced across the room to see that Dean was still asleep, his mouth hanging open with the rest of his face planted into the pillow, a pool of drool marking a wet spot underneath. Sam snorted a little at the sight. Dean, his big, bad-ass brother still slept like a three-year old on his stomach.

Speaking of stomachs, his rumbled out a warning that if he didn't feed it soon then his insides might just suck in on themselves. So, up he rose and stretched, yawning deeply. Last night's sleep had really done a world of good for him and he felt refreshed and ready to tackle whatever came his way that morning.

But first, he decided, he would let Dean sleep in and go out to get them both some breakfast. Food always had a way of soothing the savage beast within his brother and it wouldn't hurt to mend fences with him after the arguments of yesterday with a few breakfast burritos.

Also, maybe that way Dean might not suggest any more training. Perhaps then they could both get down to the business of chasing down the spirit making life difficult for the owners of the bed and breakfast. Pastor Jim, their father's old friend was friends with the owners of the inn and had told them about this one, asking for their help since he was too busy tracking down a werewolf to take it on himself. They owed Pastor Jim for all of the times he helped out their dad when he needed a partner or someone to watch over the two of them while they were little boys. So, Dean had promised the pastor that they would check into it and that's just what Sam had planned for them to do as soon as he got Dean fed, caffeinated and in a good mood.

So, without making a sound he got out of bed and reached for a pair of jeans. He nearly tripped a second later when the sweatpants he had worn to bed almost fell off on their own accord and his foot caught on the hems. More concerned that he might wake up Dean than he was with the way his pants hung loosely about him, he let them fall the rest of the way down then stepped into his jeans. Strangely enough, those too were baggier than he remembered and he had to dig around in his duffel bag to find a belt.

_Damn _he thought, _I really need to start eating more_. But then again, they were a pretty old pair of pants and maybe they were just stretching out after too many washes. Whatever the case, it really didn't cause too many alarm bells to go off in Sam's head. He would just have to make more of an effort from then on to not skip any meals and start working out to put on a little more muscle.

Pulling on his boots, he couldn't help but notice that they too were feeling a little bigger than usual and he had to lace them up as tight as they would go. He found that a little weird until he remembered Eric, one of his friends from school. He had complained that none of his shoes fit him anymore after he had gastric by-pass surgery and lost over a hundred pounds. So, it was entirely possible that he was just losing weight in his feet as well, even if he had been in the same size shoes since high school and he had been far skinnier then.

Sam's stomach grumbled again and he decided that it was high time he fed it before he lost another pound. The last thing he needed was for Dean to start worrying about his weight on top of everything else going on in their mixed-up and insane life.

Without giving it too much more thought, Sam quietly jotted a note to his brother, letting him know that he was going for food and taking the car. He placed the note on the nightstand right next to Dean's face so that it would be the first thing he saw when he woke up. After that, he grabbed the car keys and slipped out of the door, shutting it behind him as softly as he could.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

Yawning loudly from the passenger seat of Lizzy's old Hyundai, Ray complained again about how early his sister had woken him up and driven them to the motel.

"Well, we might miss him if he leaves early." She had countered.

Mentally he agreed with her, but physically his body just wanted to smack her for cutting short his rest. But she was right, he didn't want to miss seeing the behemoth being brought down to size.

That the 'spirits' had told them that the guy she had performed the spell on was staying in the motel they now were parked in front of, he still doubted all of this magic crap and wouldn't believe it until he saw it for himself. Just seconds later, he saw a door open and he started to believe.

Lizzy was taking another sip of her coffee when Ray suddenly nudged her shoulder, causing her to spill all over her jacket. She shot him a deadly glare, but when he pointed to the man exiting the motel room and unlocking a sleek, black car, she took notice.

"That him?" She asked and Ray nodded.

"Whoa, he is pretty tall...But why didn't you tell me he was so cute?." Ray took his time sliding his eyes towards his sister who looked on at the man with lust in her eyes.

"Well gee, I'm sorry if I didn't take notice of his hotness as he rammed me down yesterday." He came back sarcastically.

"Does he look any different than you remember?"

Ray sighed. It wasn't the result he had been hoping for. The guy was still a towering hulk. "Nah...I don't think it worked. So much for your brilliant magical spell." He groused.

"Well, sorry. I really thought it would work, but it's only the second time I've tried putting a spell on someone. So shoot me."

"Don't tempt me." He muttered under his breath. This had all been a bust and a complete waste of time. So much for teaching the guy a lesson. Now he was the one who had learned the lesson instead and that was to never trust any of Lizzy's bright ideas ever again.

"I said I was sorry, Ray. Get over it." She turned over the engine since the guy had already taken off and there was little point in them staying any longer. She tried to cheer him up a little with a playful punch on the shoulder and a "C'mon, let's get out of here and get some breakfast- I could eat a horse I'm so hungry."

Leave it to Lizzy to try to fix everything with food. But then again, it usually worked and thoughts of the Rooty-Tooty-Fresh-And-Fruity over at the IHOP down the street just might help him get over this latest disappointment.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

Dean woke up and wiped at his wet face. He'd been drooling in his sleep again, but he was a little relieved that Sam hadn't noticed yet and wouldn't be able to lord it over him.

"Sam?" He arched his head up and called out, but silence only echoed him back. That's when his eyes landed on the chicken scratched note on the nightstand informing him that his little brother had taken the Impala to go and get breakfast.

At least Sam let him know where he was going this time. But did he have to take the car? He griped to himself. Sam always shoved the seat too far back when he drove and it annoyed Dean to no end when he had to re-adjust it. It was bad enough that Sam, his _little _brother was taller than him, but did the kid have to rub it in his face all of the time?

Getting up with a scowl, he really hoped that Sam would hurry his ass back. He was hungry and needed coffee. One thing Sam knew full well was that a hungry Dean was a cranky Dean and he was irritated enough that Sam had taken his car.

Just as he was about to call Sam and remind him to bring him the largest coffee he could buy and to not touch the radio, said man opened the door and burst inside.

"Dean, We-'" Sam started but was cut off. All Dean saw was the bag of food and two coffees in Sam's hands and he went for them, wasting little time opening up the bag and smiling as he took out one of the fat, greasy, egg, sausage and cheese burritos.

"'bout time. I'm starving!" Shoving one end of the burrito into his mouth, he chewed happily.

"mmmmm." Dean hummed as he ate. He knew it drove Sam nuts when he did that and he reveled in the disgusted face Sam made.

"Dude, shut your mouth when you eat, that's just gross..."

In response, Dean just opened his mouth further, sticking out his tongue in order to show off his half-chewed burrito and thoughly provoke his brother further.

Sam shook his head before his face suddenly changed from slightly amused disgust to anxiety. "Dean, can you stop eating for a second and listen? We got a problem."

"Wha?" Dean asked, his mouth full of food, muffling his voice.

"I said, 'We got a problem, or at least..._I_ have a problem.'"

Dean swallowed, nearly choking on the enormous bite so he could speak. "Heard you the first time. What problem?"

"Look at me." Sam insisted, throwing up his hands to show himself off, his pants nearly falling down as he let go of the belt he had been holding. That's when Dean finally took in his little brother's appearance fully and walked up closer to him, seeing something he hadn't seen since Sam was a teenager, since before the sudden growth spurt that had left Dean looking up instead of down into his face.

Dean stood nose to nose with Sam, his eyes perfectly level with his own and he felt the bag of food he had been holding slip from his fingers to the floor.

"Holy shit."

"Duh...Tell me about it."

TBC...


	4. Chapter 3

_A/N: Thanks to all of you for reading and for all of your kind reviews. I also hope you are all having a wonderful weekend and for those of you in the states, please take a moment to remember those that gave their lives for our country's freedom this memorial day. Also, there is mention of some drug abuse in this chapter, so you are hereby warned._

**Chapter 3**

"Dude...What happened?" Dean asked, his face still registering the shock of seeing Sam brought down to his height.

"I think I shrunk." Was the best answer Sam could think of.

"Ya think, Captain Obvious?"

"I was just going out to get us some breakfast and after I got back to the car, my pants wouldn't stay up even with a belt and my feet couldn't reach the pedals." Sam's words tumbled out of his mouth while a slight panic begin to rise in his chest. "Dean...what am I going to do?"

"_We _are going to figure this thing out." Dean answered confidently, filling Sam with some hope that his big brother might be able to fix this new jam he had gotten himself into. " But first..." Dean went to his duffel bag and pulled out a pair of jeans. "I can see your tighty-whities. Here, put these on, they should fit."

Sam took the offered jeans and began to strip his too large pants off before putting Dean's jeans on and finding that those too were a little big, but fit better than his own. Feeling for all the world like a huge idiot for letting whatever had done this to him get the jump on him, he looked back at Dean, who wore a scowl on his face.

"So, what do you think this could be?" Sam asked as he pulled on the new pair of pants and Dean reached in his bag again and produced Dad's journal. "A curse or something?"

"Probably..Give me a minute, will ya? Dad's gotta have something in here that can reverse this."

After going through each page that their father had written, both Sam and Dean were disappointed but unsurprised that their father had never run into this particular problem before. Not that their father would have ever admitted to being shrunk to them, or that he ever divulged much of anything unless it was on a strict need-to-know basis, but at least he had skads of information on curses.

"Alright...says here that if it was a witch, she or he most likely would have used a hexbag." Dean informed him while Sam read over his shoulder.

"Think it could have been that witch we took care of back in Texas last week?"

"Could be, she didn't seem to like you too much."

"She didn't like you either as I recall. So why didn't she mess with you?"

"Maybe she didn't want to mar this incredibly good-looking body." Dean Smirked.

"Shut up" Sam rolled his eyes then continued to read. "She could have hidden it among our stuff or in the car. We should search everything, see if we can find it. I'll take the car if you take the room." He suggested.

"Whoa now..._I'll_ take _my_ car. Don't want you messing anything up in there."

Another eye-roll was aimed at Dean. "Whatever. We need to find the thing and burn it. Then we need to find a reversal spell so I'm not so short anymore."

"Hey! You're the same height as me now. That's not short, just not freakishly tall."

Sam let an exasperated sigh out. "Can we just focus on finding the thing and getting me back to normal?"

"Jeez. Fine, Ms. Prissypants. I'm going."

Dean went out to the car while Sam dumped out all of their belongings onto the beds and thoroughly searched through their things, coming up empty. He then made a sweep of the room, looking under beds and pulling out the dresser just to make sure he hadn't missed anything. Dean came back into the room about a half-hour later just as he finished with his own search and still hadn't found any hexbags.

"Find anything?" Sam asked.

"Bupkis." Dean replied.

"Yeah, there's nothing here either." Sam sat defeated on the bed. "So, what do we do now?"

"Keep looking through Dad's journal. Maybe there's something else that can hone a witch's power onto a person."

They went back to the journal. Sam taking lead this time, flipping through the pages. Finally, his eyes landed on a sentence scrawled in his dad's handwriting that they had missed before. "A spell's power can be directed towards an individual without the use of a hexbag if a body part, such as hair or a fingernail or personal object of the person is used..."

"Huh...you're not missing any body parts are ya?"

"No...but, " Sam held up his hand. "I am missing a watch."

OOOOOOOOOOOO

Lizzy had gone off the work and Ray was alone as he rummaged through his sister's weird, witch stuff, searching for the watch he had pilfered from the guy in the park. Maybe the spell hadn't worked, but at least he could still hock it and get enough money for some fun later on. The stoned, hippie dudes that hung out playing hacky-sack by the hooka shop always had plenty of 'stuff' to sell and he could really use the pick-me-up.

When he found the bowl in which she had burned all of that awful smelling crap, it still smelled rank, but the watch was thankfully still intact and working, just a little sooty from the burning. He cleaned it as best as he could before taking his prize and heading off to the nearest pawn shop.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

"Dammit, Sam." Dean growled. This was exactly why he felt the need to convince Sam that he needed more training. One moment of lost focus and his little brother had gone off and gotten himself cursed.

"We need to find that guy." Sam stated the obvious.

"Gee, why didn't I think of that?" Dean shot back sarcastically then ran a hand over his face, trying to work out what to do next. What would dad do in this situation? Most likely track the guy down and beat his ass to a pulp for daring to hurt his son. That's exactly what Dean wanted to do as well, but with Sam along for the ride, he knew his sensitive and morally upright (or was that uptight?) brother would object to him putting the guy in the hospital.

"It was a pretty expensive watch...what do you think the chances are that the guy pawned it?" Sam asked.

"How expensive are we talking here? And just what is a starving college student doing with such a nice watch?"

"I don't know exactly how much it was...it was a ...a graduation gift. I got from the dean for being in the top 1% of our class."

Dean knew that Sam had always been pretty good at school and he figured that he had done well at Stanford as well, but he hadn't realized he had done _that _well.

"Yeah? So, you were like valedictorian or something? And before you give me that look, yes I know what a valedictorian is."

"No, I wasn't valedictorian...I was ranked seventh in my class. Not that it really matters now..." Sam looked down at the carpet. Dean knew it hadn't been easy for Sam to leave that life behind, to forget about his dreams of law school and he knew that he was still haunted nightly by Jessica's death. So he decided to drop it and shift his focus on the problem at hand, get Sam off his darkening train of thought.

"Okay...so we go to the pawn shops in the area. We'll find the watch and the guy that did this."

OOOOOOOOOOOO

Bells chimed as the door opened and Ray stepped inside the musty and cluttered pawn shop. Old computers, radios, TVs and various musical instruments lines the shelves as he walked inside and went directly over to the counter. A big man with a pot belly and a stained t-shirt sat behind the counter watching one of the TVs laughing at the contestants on The Price is Right. "Damn idiot, toothpaste doesn't cost that much."

Ray grinned a little to see the older man in good spirits. "Hey, Uncle Dave." He called out. Uncle Dave wasn't really his uncle, but had been a good friend of his father for many years. The owner of the pawn shop was used to seeing Ray come in every now and again with things he needed to hock when money ran low.

The portly man turned in his stool and gave a little grin himself all without dropping the cigar firmly planted in the corner of his mouth. "Hey there little man."

"Uncle Dave, please..."

"Sorry, Ray. But it's been a while. Where you been keepin' yourself?"

"Been looking for a job."

"Yeah, I know how it is. I'd give you a job myself if money wasn't so tight these days." The big man commiserated. "Well, what can I do for ya?"

"Got a watch I want you to look at."

"Well, let's see it."

Ray handed over the watch while Dave turned it over in his hands the peered over at Ray with questioning eyes. "Nice...Where'd you get it? I know for a fact you can't afford anything like this."

"Oh, ya know... it was my dad's."

"Sure it was..." Dave came back sarcastically in disbelief. Looking closer at the watch, the old man frowned. "Hmmmm, This is the Stanford crest on this watch...I think I would have remembered if your dad went to Stanford and if I recall right, your daddy, while a good man, didn't have the sense that God gave a mule much less the brains to go to a school like Stanford."

"Well..." Ray stammered after being caught in a lie and struggled to come up with a better story than 'I stole it'. "Ya know...it's an old... family heirloom."

Dave turned the watch over again and showed Ray the engraving on the back. "Class of 2005...wow, quite the heirloom." Dave snickered.

Ray flushed with embarrassment. He probably should have looked the watch over more carefully.

"You know I can't buy stolen property, Ray."

"Trust me, it's not stolen. A...a...a friend gave it to me...Yeah"

"Sure he did, just like all those other friends that just happen to 'give' you their car stereos."

"C'mon, Uncle Dave...no one's gonna know and I really need the cash."

Dave sighed while Ray pulled a puppy-dog face. With his small stature and boyish looks, it worked almost every time and this time was no different as he saw the reluctance on Dave's face fade into resignation.

"Alright, Ray...I'll give you $25 for it."

"$25?...It's got to be worth three times as much...how about $50?"

"$35"

"$45"

"$40 or you can walked your ass right out of my shop."

Ray rolled his eyes. "Fine."

One handshake later, Ray was pocketing two twenties and heading off towards the hooka store to score some of the 'ol premium giggleweed. He then made a mental note to stop by the store on his way back to stock up on Cheetos and cool-ranch Doritos.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

Two hours into their pawn shop by pawn shop search of the town and Sam was tripping over his pants more often than not and had to stop to roll them up. It hadn't taken him and Dean long to realize that he was still on a downward slope in the height department. Nothing fit. Even the belt holding up his borrowed pair of jeans was notched nearly to it's last hole.

He was even shorter than Dean now. While he wasn't freakishly small, perhaps about 5 '6 or 5 '7, he felt ridiculous in his baggy clothes and if things continued as they were, he was going to be a munchkin by nightfall.

They were on their fifth pawn shop when they came up to Big Dave's Pawnworld. It looked pretty much the same as every other pawn shop they had visited except perhaps a little grubbier and given the condition of most of the other shops, that was quite an achievement in neglect.

Sam pulled up his pants again while Dean led the way inside. Bells positioned over the door jingled and Sam was immediately assaulted by the powerful smell of cigar smoke as he entered. His eyes watered a little at the acrid smoke, but stayed close behind Dean until they reached the counter where a portly (Dean probably would have called him Jabba-the-hut sized had they been out of earshot), middle aged man stood and appraised them.

"Can I help you?"

"Yeah" Dean said as he stopped at the counter. "I'm looking for a watch."

"Well, I got plenty of those." The fat guy pointed to a glass display case and waddled over to it."Looking for anything specific... something for a girlfriend maybe? I've got all kinds of ladies watches."

"No. I'm looking men's watch."

The guy's head swiveled back and forth between Dean and Sam, his face conveying a look he got often from motel clerks whenever they asked for a single room with two queens. "Something for yourself or" He looked directly at Sam "...a significant other?" Yep, now he was sure what they guy was thinking of them.

Dean caught the man's inference and immediately went on the defensive with his usual response to such questions. "Dude...he's my brother."

"Sure...Sorry 'bout that. We get all kinds in here." The man grinned in nervous apology.

"Just show us the watches." Dean grumbled in irritation.

"Well, here they are." The two younger men moved in close to the case. Sam's eyes immediately fell on the watch that used to grace his wrist until yesterday. "There it is." He pointed it out to Dean.

"Hey buddy. Where'd you get that watch?" Dean asked none too politely.

"That one? I dunno, just some guy brought it in." Sam was just as good at reading people as his brother was and knew right off the bat that they guy was lying and was holding back more that he was telling them.

"Some guy, huh? " Sam spoke up this time, a little surprised at hearing his own voice a couple of octaves higher than he was used to thanks to his new stature."You sure about that? Because I had a watch stolen not too long ago that looks an awful lot like that one. Now, I'd hate to be the one that had to send a tip off to the police that you were into receiving stolen property. It'd be a damn shame for your business if they came in and picked apart your inventory, especially if there was more than just this watch that turned up stolen."

Sam let that hang in the air between them and he saw the corners of Dean's mouth go up ever so slightly in to a small, smug smirk while the big guy visibly began to sweat despite the cool weather.

"Look..." Sam continued. "All I want is the watch back and a few answers to some questions. We won't call the police and we'll forget this ever happened it you give us the truth."

The man seemed to think on that. Having the police find out that he was taking in and reselling stolen items would no doubt ruin his business permanently and he didn't take long to come around. "Alright, man. Just leave the cops out of this." The man sighed then opened the case, handing Sam the watch. He slipped it onto his wrist then frowned when it too wouldn't fit and instead, he placed it in is pocket.

"So." Dean picked up where Sam had left off, but not before giving Sam an amused look when the watch wouldn't fit. To which Sam gave him a silent 'f-you' in reply with his eyes. "Where'd you get the watch?"

"It's from a guy named Ray. I swear I didn't know it was stolen." Another lie, but it didn't really matter, all that mattered was finding this 'Ray'.

"Where does Ray live?" Dean asked, using his meanest voice and fiercest face, the face that brokered no arguments and dared the man to lie and give him an excuse to get physical. Sam was grateful that the man was smart enough to pick up on Dean's 'I'm not putting up with any shit' attitude and began to squeal faster than a pig in a slaughterhouse.

Minutes later they were on their way to Ray McClennan's apartment and as Sam pulled the belt in even tighter to it's last hole, he prayed that this guy could be 'persuaded' by him and Dean to reverse this spell as easily as they had gotten the pawn shop owner to talk. Because if they didn't get him back to normal soon, then he have to go to the children's department to buy some new clothes. He just didn't think he could live down the teasing that Dean would unleash on him should that happen.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"You gonna be okay there, Killer?" Dean asked with a smirk while Sam bent down to roll up his pants yet again.

"Damn pants." Sam muttered under his breath, looking up and giving Dean the bitchface to end all bitchfaces.

While Dean was worried by how much Sam had shrunk just since they left the pawn shop, he couldn't help but smile a little bit at Sam's new predicament. It wasn't like he was turning into a kid. He still looked like adult Sam, thought like adult Sam, and even had a 5 o'clock shadow like adult Sam, but was just smaller. However, it was his little brother's voice that really got Dean. It was just too cute and way too funny how high-pitched it had become.

Once Sam had finished adjusting the jeans again, they both continued towards the door that the pawn shop guy had told him Ray lived. Before either of them could knock on the door there was the overpowering stench of burning rope assaulting their nostrils from the other side.

Dean coughed a little. "Dang...someone's hitting the bong pretty hard." He glanced over at Sam, who was trying to plug his nose.

"Yeah, I'll say." Sam took the initiative to knock on the door, but no one answered. "Ray McClennan?" He called out through the door. "We know you're in there. Open the door!"

"Here let me try, you don't exactly sound very threatening there. More like Mickey Mouse on helium."

"Why don't we just break in then?" Sam asked.

"Good point." Dean took out a small pouch from his pocket, filled with his lock-picking tools. He had just pulled out a pick when Sam reached out and tried the door, the knob turning easily and the door opened a crack.

"Oh...probably should have tried that first." Dean grinned sheepishly. Sam just shook his head and let Dean take point, quietly slipping into the apartment while he pulled out his weapon. The smell of weed was growing stronger as they stealthily moved in. The sound of singing coming from a TV in the middle of the room had them turning their attention towards it. They could only see the back of the man's head, but he was snorting and whooping with howling laughter at the television set. The place didn't immediately scream 'witches lair' to Dean. It looked more like a frat house, but he knew better than to judge anything by outward appearances.

More laughter cascaded into a crescendo from the couch while Willy Wonka took a group of children on a ride across a chocolate river on the TV screen. The man was obviously high as a kite and enjoying the bright colors of the psycholdelic scene that played out before him.

Dean made a few silent hand gestures towards Sam, indicating that he should approach from one side of the couch while he took the other. Just as they took one step forward, the door behind them opened.

"What the hell, Ray? Why is the door o-" A black-haired girl burst in and seeing the intruders, became a whirl of action. Attactched to her key chain was a bottle of pepper spray and before Dean and Sam could react (and Dean would later say that it was only because he was so reluctant to hit a girl) she shot the fiery liquid into both of their eyes. Blinded by the burning spray, Dean's hands instinctively flew to his face, as did Sam's. Neither one of them could see what was coming next as the girl found an empty beer bottle and swung it against Sam's temple, sending him boneless to the ground. Dean was fighting the effects of the spray as he dodged another swing coming at him, he launched himself at the girl, but before he could reach her, something heavy and probably ceramic crashed and broke over his head from behind and he landed on the floor next to his brother.

The last thing he would hear before being swallowed up by the dark was giggles followed by "Damn, Lizzy. You sure showed those Oompa Loompas."

TBC...


	5. Chapter 4

_A/N: Here's kind of a short chapter. Thanks go to all of you for reading this silly little story so far and to each of you that has reviewed. Sorry if I haven't responded to you personally if you have left a review, I will try harder this time around since each comment is like getting paid in gold. _

**Chapter 4**

"Whoa...look at the size of this thing!" Ray exclaimed as he picked the large gun up from the floor where it had fallen and turned it over in his hands. He pointed it at several objects, making 'pew pew pew' noises as he pretended to fire it and giggle.

"Ray! Will you watch it with that thing? Its not a toy."

"Spoil sport." He pouted. Then sheepishly he lowered then gun and placed it on the counter-top in the kitchen while Lizzy ran a nervous hand through her hair and paced back and forth in front of the two men lying on the floor. "We gotta figure out what we're gonna do with these guys."

"Why don't we call the cops? They were breaking in after all."

"What? Are you completely brain-dead? We can't call the cops. Not when it smells like a bong exploded in here. And by the way..." She smacked him across the back of the head. "What were you thinking smoking weed in _my _apartment? You know I hate that."

"Sorry...I just wanted to have a little fun."

"Next time have fun at someone else's place. Now... we got bigger problems to deal with." She looked down at the two guys again. "You know who these men are? They're not you're bookies are they?"

"Nah...You know I don't do that anymore...Wait." He bent down and studied the smaller of the two. "Hey! It's the guy from the park. But, he shrunk...A lot. I can't believe that hoodoo crap actually worked!"

Lizzy bent down for a closer look as well. "You're right. It is him...Oh my god, he's even more cute than he was before. He's so small and adorable." She gushed while Ray rolled his eyes dramatically. Only his crazy sister would turn to complete mush for a guy she had put a hex on only a day ago.

"Lizzy, can you get your mind out of his pants for a second here. What are gonna do with them?"

"Uh...well...I guess we should tie them up."

"Then what? Just keep them here forever?"

"Of course not...but it'll buy us some time to come up with a plan."

OOOOOOOOOOOO

Sam fought the heaviness and pain in his head as he tried to open his eyes. But when he found them too sticky with goo thanks to the pepper spray for them to open on their own, he tried to lift a hand to rub the gunk away. Unfortunately, his hand was currently tied to his other hand behind his back. On top of that, his nose was running and without his hands free he couldn't even wipe the snot from his face.

Great. This was just great. So now he was short, blind, bound, snotty and possibly concussed. Could things get any worse?

He struggled again to pry his eyelids open and was rewarded this time with them opening a crack. It wasn't much, but at least he could see, sort of. Though he had to peer through sticky strands of goo, he could see two people, a man and a woman arguing within the kitchen.

He turned his aching head to the side and caught sight of Dean. He too sat on the floor next to him, his hands and ankles bound, looking worse for wear, his face flushed red, eyes swollen from the spray and a fine trickle of blood drew a dried-up line down the left side of his face.

"Dean. Pssst.." He whispered, hoping to rouse his brother without gathering the attention of the two still going at it in the kitchen. "Dean...c'mon, man."

A low groan issued from Dean's throat and Sam was relieved to see his big brother begin to come around. "Guhhhhdmnmitnall..." Dean grumbled unintelligibly.

"Dean...you okay?" Sam asked, still finding the sound of his higher-pitched voice strange to his ears, especially now that his nose was congested from the pepper spray.

"Oh, I'm super-spectacular." Dean groused then cracked his eyes open and glanced over at Sam. "You look like shit, Sammy." He slurred.

"Right back at ya, Bro."

"Jeez...I can't believe those two actually took the two of us out." He nodded towards the still bickering couple. "I'm embarrassed for us both. Promise me that when we get out of this, that we'll never breathe a word about this ever again."

"Agreed." Sam nodded. This was one incident that he would rather just forget about. Sam tugged against the ropes that bound his hands. At least they had the fact that good ol' Ray didn't appear to be a boy scout as his knots left much to be desired and Sam had already loosened his considerably.

Sam guessed that there was one advantage to shrinking and that had to be that he most likely shrunk even further since being tied up and his hands slipped through the ropes rather easily.

Chancing a look back at the two in the kitchen and seeing that they were still distracted, he untied his ankles then helped Dean free his hands, his brother taking over the task of untying his own feet. As soon as Dean had his ankles free of the rope, he slid his hand up the end of his pants leg and pulled out the small .22 he had hidden in an ankle holster. Leave it to Dean to come fully armed with two guns, ready for anything. And he again thanked God that their two would-be captors didn't appear to be experts at kidnapping people and never checked to make sure that they didn't have any extra, hidden weapons.

Dean made a signal for them to move and swiftly he covered the distance between them and the two people in the kitchen. The man and woman were still arguing and never noticed Sam and Dean coming upon them, nor Sam take up the gun that lay discarded on the counter-top next to him.

"I can't believe you broke my teapot over his head...You are so buying me a new one!" The woman grumbled, her attention totally focused on the broken shards of what had once been a ceramic teapot.

"It's just a dumb teapot." The little man shot back. "It's not like you even drink tea anyway."

"Yeah, well now I can't even if I wanted to."

"Alright, you two! That's enough!" Dean shouted his gun raised towards them, obviously he had just about as much of the back and forth between those two as Sam had. It made his head hurt just to listen to them.

Two pairs of eyebrows and arms shot up in surprise, the woman sliding across the smaller man as if to shield him, both of them finally falling silent.

"Alright... that's better." Sam couldn't agree more. "Now, which one of you yahoos shrunk my brother?"

Nervous glances were exchanged between the man and woman. If Sam had to guess based on what he had seen so far of these two, he figured that it wasn't Ray who was the witch. He didn't strike him as particularly 'witch-like' while the woman, all dressed in black from head to toe and sporting some horribly, black-dyed hair, fit the bill quite nicely.

"Please, please, please...Don't kill us. We're sorry...I'm so sorry...I didn't think it would actually work. It was just supposed to be for fun... " Ray begged. The woman kicked behind her and hit him on the shin, effectively shutting him up.

"Fun?" Dean asked, getting impatient. "You two did this for kicks? He was 6'4 yesterday and now look at him...he's smaller than you. Now tell me how this is supposed to be fun?" Dean pointed to Ray and Sam saw the look in his brother's eyes. That dangerous kind of look he got when he was angry, and decided he needed to intervene before things went sideways.

"Look..." Sam stepped forward, again his pants conspired against him and he tripped a little on the too long hems. "All we want is for me to be put back to normal. You do a reversal spell and we'll leave you alone. No one needs to get hurt. Alright?"

"Reversal spell?" The woman asked.

"Yeah...the spell that'll counteract this hex you put on him." Dean came back, his agitation clearly mounting. "So, get to it!"

"But...but, I don't know how to do that." She protested. " The book didn't say anything about reversing spells."

"Which book? Is that the source of your power?" Sam asked.

"Source of power? I don't know what the hell you're talking about. It's just a book with spells in it. I got it from work, a customer brought it in and said she found it in her son's room and she didn't want it in her home anymore. I just thought it was cool, ya know? Thought I'd try out some of the stuff in it."

"Great. We're dealing with amateur hour here. You have no idea what you're messing with, do ya?" Dean grumbled. "Where's the book now?"

"On the bookshelf over there" She pointed. Sam turned and saw the heavy, black book laying under several copies of the twilight books. He didn't think much of her reading choices, but he pulled it out and began to flip through it. The book was far heavier than he expected and he nearly dropped it. He had to use a good deal of the strength in his much smaller muscles to haul it over to the table

"Looks like the real deal here." He told Dean as little breathlessly.

"These kind of books aren't playthings." Dean began to remonstrate the pair. "This is some seriously dark hoodoo and mojo like this is not to be messed around with. You know what happens to most of the witches we come across?"

"Um...no?" She asked with a wince.

"Oh God." Ray groaned behind of the girl. "They _are_ gonna kill us, Lizzy."

"Oh stop it." Dean growled back. "If we were going to kill you, you'd be dead already. But seriously maim, you? That's another story." That put an end to Ray's whining, but seemed to set the girl on edge. "So now, Lizzy. It's Lizzy, right?" She nodded hastily. "How about we get back to doing that reversal spell?"

"Uh, Dean?" Sam interrupted him.

"Not now, Sam. These two are gonna fix this and fix this now!"

"Dean, wait."

"What? You wanna stay a hobbit forever, Samwise?"

"She's right." Sam had skimmed through most of the book. There were plenty of spells to hex people with, complete with ingredient lists and Latin chants, but... "I can't find any reversal spells in this thing."

"Oh...well..." Dean turned to his brother and threw up his arms in an explosive fury. "that's just perfect."

TBC...


	6. Chapter 5

_A/N: Another short chapter, but I hope you enjoy it. Not a whole lot of action in this one, but I hope to have the next part up soon. :D_

**Chapter 5**

Sam sighed, running a hand through his shaggy hair. "Is this the only spell book you have?" He asked Lizzy.

"Well, pretty much. Unless you count the _Harry Potter Book of Spells and Potions_ I have on my dresser." She came back in a snarky voice.

"Um...no. That's not gonna cut it." Sam replied, letting his irritation shine through.

"Alright. No more messing around here." Dean cut in. "Ray, you and your girlfriend here better find a way to fix this fast or there's gonna be hell to pay."

"Girlfriend?" Ray made a disgusted face. "Ewww...She's my sister, dude."

"Whatever." Dean turned and made an aside to Sam. "Guess that explains the bickering."

"Look." Sam ignored them all. "There has to be a way to reverse this somehow. Another book somewhere..."

"You got lots of weird books at the store you work at." Ray spoke to his sister.

"Ray...Shut up." She turned on her brother, looking like she would have smacked him if she didn't still have her arms in the air. "You can't seriously want to help them. They broke in here and have guns on us..."

"Yeah duh. That's why we should help them. I'd rather not be turned into Swiss cheese, thank-you very much. You need to help them. This has gone way, way, _way_ over our heads here. Maybe they're right and we shouldn't be messing with all of this magic crap. I mean...look at him." He pointed to Sam who now stood even smaller than Ray's short stature. "That isn't natural and to tell you the truth it scares the living shit out of me."

"You should listen to him, Lizzy." Dean added. She gained a conflicted look, but with one pleading look from her brother, she sighed in surrender.

"Where do you work, Lizzy?" Sam asked, seeing that she might be more cooperative now. "You've got other books like this one?"

"Well, sort of. I work at a used bookstore, but my boss specializes in various religions. Most of it's crappy new-age stuff about healing crystals, but there are other books..older ones that my boss keeps in a safe, I'm pretty sure that one of them is a book on witchcraft. But I don't have the combo to that... he doesn't let anyone near those books."

"We'll be able to get in." Sam assured her then turned to Dean, ready to head for the door. "We should get going."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Dean stopped him. "You're not going anywhere."

"What do you mean, I'm not going? We need to get at that book, Dean and if it's anywhere near as powerful as this book, you know we're going to have to destroy it."

"Would you take a look at yourself, Sam? You can't even keep your pants up much less commit breaking and entering. And what if you shrink even more and we have to run from the cops? You know, I'm not carrying you."

"So, What? Now that I'm small I can't do the job?"

"Yeah, something like that."

"Dude...that's totally unfair." Ray cut in suddenly. "Just because he's short doesn't mean he's useless."

"You." Dean pointed at him. "Quiet!"

"Dean, c'mon..." Sam pleaded.

"No, Sam. You stay here with tweedle-dumb and tweedle-dumber and keep an eye on them until I get back."

"I'm going." He shot back indignantly.

"No, you're not." Dean was firm, brokering no argument, but Sam wasn't one to back down so easily.

"Yes, I am. How else are you going to find the right book? Would you even know what you're looking for?"

"I'm not a complete idiot, ya know."

"And he thinks _we_ bicker." Retorted Ray to his sister.

"Shut up, Ray!" Everyone else shouted at him at the same time, glaring at him until he shrunk back. The two brothers squared off again, all but forgetting about the other two people in the room until a small voice cleared.

"Eh hemm..." Lizzy spoke up and all of the men turned to face her. "I might be able to find what you need. But if I help you, will you promise me that you'll not hurt my brother? He isn't really a part of this. This was all my idea and I was the one that cast the spell and chances are that the only way this can be reversed is if I do it. Plus...there's an alarm system set up in the shop. I can get you in without triggering it." She added.

Sam and Dean exchanged wary looks and Sam shrugged, he didn't like the idea of involving a civilian, even if she had been responsible for all of this in the first place, but she was right and as much as he hated to admit it, Dean was right as well. He was getting smaller every second and he'd only be a liability to his big brother.

Dean closed his eyes as though praying for patience then huffed. "Fine. You take me to this shop. Sam stays here and keeps an eye on your brother. No funny stuff, got it? We get in and we get out with the book and we get right back over here and fix Sam."

OOOOOOOOOOOO

Ten minutes later and Dean was driving down the dark street with Lizzy sitting in the passenger seat of the Impala. Almost all of the downtown shops were closed for the night and very few people lingered around the sidewalks, which eased Dean's mind. He didn't mind breaking and entering, heck he'd been doing it most of his life, but taking along the girl complicated things. For one, he didn't know her and could trust her about as far as he could throw her and two, she didn't come off as a completely evil person, despite her foolishness at dabbling into witchcraft and he didn't want to get her into any unnecessary danger.

"So...What in the hell were you thinking getting into witchcraft?" He asked, deciding to be blunt with her. "I mean...were all of the cool kids doing it and you just wanted to fit in?"

"No...You wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

She turned her head to look out the window. "I did it for Ray." She answered quietly. "I wanted to help him." She shook her head and lost herself in memories. "Ya see. I was six when Ray was born and he was such a tiny baby, not even five pounds at full term...doctors said it was because our mother had developed kidney disease while she was pregnant and that led to his low birth weight. He was always the smallest in his classes at school and it hurt to see him get picked on almost everyday because of it. By the time I was just out of high school, our mother had died of kidney failure, our family's money was wiped out from her treatments and my father was on his way to jail for stealing a car. Ray could have been helped then with growth hormones when he was a teenager, but I was on my own to take care of him and we were too broke to afford the medicine. And now that he's an adult... it's too late for the hormones to help him get any taller. So, that's when I started looking into 'alternatives', studying any way to help him... to help him be normal, even going into that old spell-book, hoping I might find anything to help him grow. Unfortunately, the closest thing I could find was one to shrink people..."

Dean was silent, but sent a sharp look her way.

"I knew you wouldn't understand." She sighed and allowed her shoulders to slump. "I just wanted to protect him, to see him happy. Guess I blew it, huh?"

"Oh no...I get it." Dean disagreed. "I have a little brother too. I know the lengths I would go to protect him. But why'd you have to go and mess with Sam, huh? How was that helping Ray?"

"I'm sorry...Ray was just so upset the day your brother ran into him in the park. I had never seen him so down before and I just wanted to cheer him up a little ya, know. Sam was just another person that had everything that Ray wanted and couldn't have, and I thought-?"

"So, what?" Dean interrupted, figuring it all out without her finishing the story and he was suddenly very angry with her. "This whole thing was some kind of morale boost? To see a big, tall guy brought down to size so Ray could feel like he wasn't the smallest guy around anymore? How about next time you just give him a hug or a cookie or something before you go slinging hexes all over the place. Believe me, these things always come back to bite you in the ass because witchcraft is evil. Do I have to spell it out for you? It gets its power from hell and people who use it and mess around with it, end up going there themselves."

She turned to him, her face paling. "How do you know? How do you know so much about all of this?"

"Believe me, I just do. I've seen all kinds of nasty things my whole life and witches are right at the top of my hit list. Guess you could say that me and my brother are a special kind of hunters."

"Hunters? Seriously? So...you like... chase after witches? Do you kill them?"

"Honestly? Yeah, sometimes, amongst other things. And we're not the only ones. You keep going down the path you're going and it won't be just me and Sam going after you, but a butt-load of other guys and most of them won't care if you did all of this for your brother. They'll take you out without batting an eyelash"

"I never realized..." She gulped visibly and Dean saw a change come over her, saw the regret and fear flash in her eyes even in the dark confines of the car and he softened his tough tone. "But it's not too late for you to turn this around, Lizzy. You can fix this and you helping us out here is a start."

It didn't take them too long to arrive at the bookstore after that, parking in the rear where the large, classic car would be less noticeable. Slipping out of the car, Lizzy followed him to the door, looking about nervously as she tried to keep up with his quick, long strides.

"You got a key, right?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. The security panel is right beside the door."

"Okay. You turn off the alarm then wait out here. I'll get the books out of the safe."

"How are you going to do that?"

"I got my ways." He winked. "Now, where's the safe?"

"In my boss' office behind the painting of Jesus."

"Your boss keeps and evil spell-book behind a painting of Jesus?" He asked incredulously.

She just shrugged. "I don't really get it either. He says he wants to make his store about embracing _all_ religions."

Dean shook his head imagining what a fruitcake this owner had to be. "Whatever."

A moment later, Lizzy had the door unlocked and the alarm code punched in and Dean was making his way through the stacks of books until he found the door to the office. Of course, it was locked, but that never stopped him before and it was quickly picked. It wasn't too hard to find the safe either as it was exactly where Lizzy said it would be, behind the painting of Jesus. She just failed to mention that it was a velvet painting of said savior and he had to fight hard to suppress the guffaw that wanted to bubble from his throat.

Focusing on his task instead, he turned the combination dial to the safe, listening closely to the tell-tale clicks of the tumblers until it sprung open. Inside the safe was a mess. Papers were strewn about loosely along with various talismans and even a weird, fertility goddess carved out of stone ( or at least what he supposed was a fertility goddess given the pregnant belly and thirty-odd breasts on it), but underneath all of that he found three books.

The first one he pulled out was an old copy of the _Kama Sutra._

"You dog, you." Dean muttered, revising his internal vision of the owner as he flipped through the pages with a grin, turning it sideways at a picture of one position he never knew was even humanly possible. "Too bad we don't need this one." He remarked, stuffing it back into the safe. He pulled out the next book. This one was huge. It had to weigh a ton and was bound in leather and printed on yellowed vellum.

"Yahtzee!" He exclaimed quietly, but was sorely disappointed a moment later when he actually read the Latin printed on it and while he might not be a whiz at reading that dead language like Sam was, he knew enough to know that it was an old copy of the bible. "Damn, not Yahtzee."

However, the last book left inside the safe proved to be a boon. While it wasn't quite as immense as the bible was, it was still a hefty book and the inverted pentagram on the cover was sort of a dead giveaway that this was the kind of book he was looking for. "Yes. Yahtzee for sure this time."

He stuffed the book inside his jacket and wasted little time closing back up the safe, replacing the velvet Jesus and booking it double time out of there.

TBC...


	7. Chapter 6

_A/N: Thanks again for all of your reviews. I'm having a lot of fun writing this, so hopefully, I'll have the next chapter out soon. :D_

**Chapter 6**

Sam sat uncomfortably in his seat at the table as his feet couldn't touch the floor anymore, even if his pant legs could and he just hoped that Dean would hurry his ass up and get back already. He felt ridiculous in his own skin and it didn't help matters much that he couldn't do anything about it until his brother returned.

"Hey man..." Ray spoke up, his head popping up from the refrigerator door. "Wanna beer?"

"Uh...sure." Why not? He could really use a drink right then. Babysitting Ray wasn't his idea of a good time, but he figured that he might as well make the most of it.

"Cool." Ray grabbed a couple of bottles and handed one off to Sam. It felt huge in his hand and when he tried to twist the cap off, he found it almost impossible to open.

"Here, I'll get that." Ray offered to help, but Sam was not to be deterred by a simple bottle cap.

"Nah." He grunted as he manhandled the cap. "I can get it." The cap dug into his skin and he swore until he came to the depressing conclusion that he had not the strength to get it off.

"Dammit, this sucks." He sighed in defeat and handed the bottle to Ray, who opened it easily.

"I'm really sorry, Dude." The other man apologized honestly. "If I'd known things were going to end up this way, I never would have let Lizzy do this to you."

"It's a little late for that now, isn't it?" Sam grumbled in irritation, grabbing the bottle back and downing a quarter of it in one gulp.

Ray took a deep drink from his as well and sat down in the chair opposite him. "Guess I deserved that. Lizzy just gets a little wrapped up in my business sometimes. She wants to protect me, ya know? Like I can't take care of myself or something. It's annoying as all get out, but there's no stopping her when she's in big-sister mode and she won't take 'no' for an answer."

Sam had to smirk a little at that. Yeah, he knew how irritating it could be to constantly be reminded that he was the little brother and that he was somehow incapable of maing adult decisions, like he was a child. Sam hated it sometimes, but he had to admit in a secret way, that it felt good to be looked after, knowing that Dean always had his back no matter what.

"Yeah. I totally understand. It can be...really, really unbearable sometimes. But they mean well."

Ray snorted. "Yeah, well at least you had an older brother. Me? Have you any idea how embarrassing it is to have your older _sister _fight bullies for you in school? Man..." He shook his head and took another drink. "It's...what's the word I'm looking for? Ya know...when a man doesn't feel like a man anymore?"

"Emasculating?" Sam guessed.

"Yeah...emascu-...what you just said." Ray agreed.

Well, Ray had him on that one. It was bad enough having Dean stick up for him growing up, but it had to be ten times worse having a girl fight for you.

"So...why'd you do it, Ray?" Sam changed the subject. "Why the whole shrinking me thing?" Ray seemed genuinely remorseful for his actions, but Sam still wanted to understand them better.

"You don't know what it's like. The day you ran into me in the park was just the straw that broke the camel's back. I'm constantly being reminded of how small and useless I am and for once, I just once...I wanted someone...someone like you- tall, good-looking and enormous to understand how I feel each and everyday. For once I wanted someone else to know what it feels like to be the little guy."

"I think I understand." Sam explained and Ray gave him a disbelieving look. "Really, I do" Sam insisted, taking another long drink from his beer and starting to feel a little buzz come over him. " I didn't shoot out of the womb at 6'4, ya know. I was one of the smallest kids in all of my classes until I hit high school and I was picked on a lot. Then that all changed when I finally started to grow, but just instead of being called a 'shrimp' or 'pipsqeak' anymore, it was 'sasquatch' or 'jolly-green giant' after that."

Sam was definitely beginning to feel the effects of the beer, loosening his tongue, even though he had only managed to get about half of the bottle down. he didn't mean to open up like this so much to someone he barely knew, but in a way it felt good to let it all out to someone. "And I tell you what, being tall isn't all that it's cracked up to be either. There's the being crammed into a car for days on end, the beds that don't quite go all the way to the ends of my feet, the way I always have to make sure my nose-hairs are trimmed because people can see up into my nostrils. Actually, being this size, is a little..I don't know...I wouldn't call it fun, but at least my back doesn't hurt."

Ray gave a little chuckle as he nodded. "Guess we're not that different then. All I've ever wanted was to just be normal. Sounds like you do too."

"Yeah..." Sam replied, somewhat wistfully, then sighed." But...what's 'normal' anyway?" Sam downed another mouthful of beer. "Normal's boring." He tried to sound sincere, but in truth, normal was all he had ever craved and still wanted.

"You're right." Ray lifted his beer bottle with a weak, cheeky grin. "Here's to being abnormal and to never being boring."

Sam was feeling pretty floaty by then but couldn't help but agree with Ray. His life was anything but boring anymore and probably never would be again. With a small sigh, he clinked his beer bottle with Ray's, finishing off the cool, amber liquid in one gulp.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

Lizzy unlocked the door to the apartment with Dean right by her side. The sounds of laughter coming from the kitchen was a surprise to Dean as he stormed in, book in hand. What was going on?

He walked into the kitchen to find Sam swinging his legs under the table, his shoes had been kicked off, or fallen off as his pant legs scraped hollowly across the floor with a swish, swish noise. But the strangest thing of all wasn't Sam's now kid-like stature, but the shit-eating grin and half-masted eyes that spoke of only one thing.

"Sam?... Are you drunk?" Dean asked, disbelieving the sight of his now really little brother.

"Hey, Dean...'bout time." Sam greeted him then hiccuped. "M'ready to be big again."

"I asked you a question, Sam." Dean repeated himself, his annoyance at their situation growing in leaps and bounds. "Are you drunk?

"Maybe." Sam gave him a lopsided grin, definitely drunk off his ass. Great...this was just what Dean needed- a shrinking, drunk brother on top of having to deal with the not-so-wonder -twins.

"I swear to God we were only gone an hour. How much have you had?" Dean tried to keep the anger out of his voice and failed.

"Um..I dunno...let me think...uh." Sam concentrated so hard he nearly fell out of the chair. "One?"

"One? And that did this to you?" Dean grumbled.

Lizzy shot her brother a heated glare. "Ray?"

"What? I only gave him a beer. Sorry."

"What were you thinking?" Lizzy asked her brother.

"What?...oh jeez...he's not underage is he?" Ray asked.

"No...but look at him." Dean came back with fury in his eyes. "He's got to be only three feet tall." Dean shot back. "He has almost no alcohol tolerance when he's a giant, much less a smurf."

"M'not a smurf... smurfs are blue and I'm at least 3'9, Dean." Sam defended himself in response. looking put-out. "And M'not a kid. Can take care of m'self."

"Yeah? Well, tell that to the headache you're gonna have in the morning."

"I'm sorry, man." Ray offered his apology to Dean.

"I'm getting a little sick of hearing that from you two." Dean complained, stabbing a finger in Ray's direction then grumbled mostly to himself, "Shit..Can this night get any worse?"

Sam put his head on the table and moaned. "Think m'gonna be sick."

And a minute later, Dean's night just got worse as he hauled his ailing brother to the toilet, practically carrying him like a toddler, his pants finally falling off completely by the time they made it to the bathroom.

"Uhhhggg." Sam groaned after he was finished reliving his lunch, resting his head on the surface of the toilet seat.

"Feeling better?" Dean asked wryly.

"No." Sam groaned again.

"Serves you right."

Sam lifted his head and dropped to his now naked ass. "Need new pants." He mumbled..

"Duh."

"Hey, Dean..."

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"Any time you need to puke, Bro."

"No...I mean...thanks...for everything. Ya know, for taking care of me when I was a kid...for sticking up for me, for being there after..." Sam closed his eyes tiredly, leaning back against the wall. "After the fire...and for putting up with me and for..."

"Dude. Enough. I get it. Just don't start bawling on me."

"Jerk." Sam whispered, his voice fading.

Dean's soft response of "Bitch" back at Sam fell on deaf ears as his little, extremely little brother was now snoring and fast asleep.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

Thankfully, Sam's shirt was long enough now to save him some dignity, but Dean still wrapped a blanket around his sleeping brother for extra protection. He looked at Sam and a little smirk crossed his face.

Lizzy watched from the kitchen entrance as the older man took care of the younger, recalling all of the times she had done the same for Ray when he was a kid, when Mom was too sick to take care of him and Dad too drunk to care. Maybe he too was remembering a time he had done the same for Sam.

She felt an overwhelming wave of remorse float in and wash over her just then. She had done this to them, screwed with their lives and they weren't all that different from her and Ray. She saw herself in Dean's shoes and if someone had messed with her little brother the way she had messed with his...well, she could see why Dean was more than a tad angry with her and had threatened them with bodily harm.

Dean sighed and stood as soon as Sam was settled on the couch and connected eyes with her. She knew all was not forgiven and would never be forgotten and from that moment on, she knew that she had to do everything she could to help them. She made a silent vow to herself that once this was all over, she would be turning over a new leaf. No more black clothes, no more dabbling in the occult and no more spells. She'd find another way to protect her brother.

In the mean time, that meant she had work to do and from the intense look on Dean's face, he going to give her any slack.

"He gonna be okay?" She asked.

"Yeah. He'll sleep it off." Dean replied shortly, moving to brush past her, but she grabbed his sleeve to stop him.

"I'm so sorry that I've put you through this and I wouldn't blame you for hating me. But, I'm going to fix this." She told him with confidence and sincerity. "I promise."

"You better." He replied, his eyes boring into hers fiercely before he shrugged loose from her grip and barreled into the kitchen, picking up the book they had just stolen. She followed him in and took a chair at the table.

"Can you read this?" He asked. "Sam's usually better at this crap, but he's a little in dispose."

"Yeah. I can. I can read Latin pretty well."

"Good." He tossed the book at her and she barely managed to catch it in time. "Then get crackin'."

She sat for hours at the table, flipping through the pages of the book, trying to find anything that might be of use to them. But, it was time consuming translating the text. She had taught herself Latin and she had always thought she quite good, but she wasn't exactly fluent in it and the process was slow going. Her eyes were straining and the words were becoming a blur the further she trudged on, but with Dean sitting across from her and demanding constant updates on her progress, she couldn't and wouldn't stop, even as the first beams of sunlight began to filter through the window.

Ray had already fallen asleep in the recliner long ago and Dean was beginning to blink slowly as though he could fall asleep at any moment. Hunched over the book, she valiently refused to let sleep take her either when she finally came across something that grabbed her full attention and dragged her from any thoughts of rest. Pulling out her Latin-to-English dictionary, she made sure that what she was reading was correct and what she read was both heartening and disappointing at the same time.

She sighed loudly and pulled at her hair, rousing Dean into full alertness.

"What?" He asked.

"I think I might have found something." She started warily, almost wincing thinking about how his reaction might be to her discovery. "But, I'm not sure you're gonna like it."

"Well, what is it?"

"There's a spell in here that will reverse each and every spell a witch has ever made. Kinda like a blanket reversal spell if you will."

"Great. Let's get to it then." Dean looked up at her hopefully.

"There's just a few...catches."

"Oh, don't tell me that." He shook his head, but for some reason didn't seem too surprised to hear that.

"The spell can only be performed by the witch herself, which I'm guessing would be me and I'm all for doing... " She tried to assure him, not liking the glint in his eyes.

"Why do I feel a 'but' coming on?" He interrupted and she could only offer him an apologetic face.

"But... it can only be performed on hallowed ground at the stroke of midnight on the first night of a full moon..." She rushed the words out with a wince and looked to the calender hanging from the wall behind her, her heart sinking at what it told her. Thinking about how much Sam had shrunk in just the last day, Dean was not going to be a happy camper once she told him when the next full moon was to occur. "Which isn't for another three days."

TBC...


	8. Chapter 7

_A/N: Hi there! So sorry this took so long for me to get around to updating...Life has been hectic these last few weeks as my husband gets ready to deploy to Afghanistan next week. Anyway, I'm hoping you like this chapter, it took me forever to write and then I kept second guessing myself and had to start all over and I'm still not completely pleased with it, so if you see something amiss or there's something you'd like to see happen next, let me know. :D_

**Chapter 7**

"Three days?"

Sam screwed his eyes against the sudden noise, Dean's barking voice carrying towards him like a freight train and slamming into his senses. The sunlight filtering into the room and directly into his eyes added to colorful explosion as a mini-nuke went off in his head. An involuntary groan escaped from deep in his throat and his arm flung over his eyes, trying to shield the light and the noise from his aching head, but Dean continued to rant loudly and he knew that sleep would no longer be in the cards for him.

Sitting up, he realized that he couldn't even see over the back of the couch he had been sleeping on to see what had pissed his brother off this time, and when he tried to fling off the blanket he had been covered in, he came to another cold realization.

"Uh dude, where are my pants?" He called out to his big brother.

Dean cut off his tirade mid-sentence and materialized above Sam, looking much like a giant to the downsized man. He wore a dark scowl, but it softened just a bit, taking in Sam's appearance.

"Sorry, man. But they fell off. Your britches got a little big for you."

"Dammit." Sam muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose, praying that the headache would just go away and kicking himself mentally for ever agreeing to drinking anything with alcohol.

A glass of water appeared in his hand along with an aspirin before Dean snatched the aspirin back as though thinking better of it and breaking the thing in half.

"Don't want you overdosing." Dean shrugged sheepishly and Sam rolled his eyes

"Thanks." Sam tried to bite back his sarcasm, but couldn't.

"No problem."

"So, what's all the yelling about?"

"Three days, Sam."

"What?" Sam asked in confusion.

"That's how long we have to wait until we can reverse the spell Glenda-the-good-witch over there cast on you."

"What?" Sam asked again, still confused.

"Yeah...turns out she can only reverse on the night of a full moon."

"Which is in three days?"

"Three days."

"Shit."

"No kidding."

"There's gotta be something else we can do." Forgetting that he was only clad in a oversized t-shirt, Sam was up and off of the couch and heading to the kitchen. From her seat at the table, Lizzie blushed violently in reaction to Sam's apparel, but he ignored her and climbed into the nearest seat like he was scaling Mt. Rushmore and had to stand on it in order to reach across the table and pull the heavy book towards him.

He was already feeling like a lilliputian now, just how small would he be in three days?

Desperate to find a quicker cure, he scanned each page thoroughly, but came up with the same conclusion Lizzie had earlier.

"Dammit." He sighed, slamming the book shut.

"I take it you didn't find anything either." Dean concluded, taking a seat next to Sam and glaring at the young woman who had started this whole mess.

"Guess all we can do is wait then." Sam resigned himself to his fate. At least shrinking wasn't physically painful, just very, very, very annoying.

"At least that will give us some time to gather everything necessary for the ritual." Lizzie jumped into the conversation. "The book says that we're going to need some pretty weird stuff for this to work, stuff that may be a little...hard to find."

"Such as?" Dean asked, not really wanting to hear knowing how disgusting these things could get.

"Well..." She continued, opening the book again and finding the right page. She read off a virtual grocery list of herbs, plants and assorted animal parts (the usual eye-of-newt and toe of frog crap) but then she came the truly weird stuff. "And we're also going to need to make an animal sacrifice, namely one rooster, one hen and...I hate to say it but..."

"But what?" Sam and Dean both asked together.

"But we need a new-born calf and we have to drain it's blood right at the stroke of midnight in a cemetery."

Sam and Dean shot incredulous looks towards Lizzie like she had just gown three horns and sprouted fairy wings.

"See, Sam. This is why I hate all this witch crap. Not only is it evil, sick and twisted, but most of all it's just plain gross." Dean started to rant and Sam was in no mood to stop him. "Are you saying that we have to find a little baby cow and kill it? Where am I supposed to find a cow and more importantly how are we gonna get it to the cemetery 'cause I'm sure as hell not going to shove a whole barnyard full of animals into my car."

The three of them sat in frustrated thought after that, all of them trying to wrap their minds around the situation until Dean's head came up and looked Sam in the eyes. "I got an idea."

"Care to share?" Sam asked.

"We call Bobby."

"Bobby? As in Bobby Singer? Are you kidding? Last we saw him, he was ready to blow Dad's brains out with a shot-gun."

"Oh don't be such a drama queen, Sam. Dad was just being...well Dad and Bobby would have never actually killed him. But he's our best bet. The old coot lives out in the country near farms, there's an old cemetery near his place that'll be deserted enough for us to do all this crazy shit without getting arrested and I'm sure one of his old trucks could haul our petting zoo around."

"You think he'd actually be willing to help us?"

"He may not be Dad's best buddy anymore, but he and I still talk from time to time. I even helped him out on a hunt last year."

"Okay. He's gotta be at least a half's day drive from here." Sam had to sit down in the chair before hopping off. "Let's get going."

"Whoa, whoa...aren't you forgetting something, Buckaroo?"

"What?" Sam asked, honestly perplexed until Dean's eyes traveled down to his bare legs and Sam finally got the picture. "Ohhh...yeah. Guess I could use some clothes."

An hour later, Sam grumbled loudly as he put on the new clothes Dean had picked up for him. If he had thought the humiliation of being three feet tall was bad, it had nothing on what he was wearing now. Stepping out of the bathroom, Dean gave him a toothy grin.

"Shut-up." Sam stopped him with a raised hand from whatever smart remark he was going to say.

"What?"

"Overalls, Dean? I'm three feet tall not three years old."

"Hey, I was going for functionality here. If you get any smaller, at least the suspenders will keep your modesty intact."

"But did you have to get Osh-Kosh?"

"B'gosh!" Dean laughed, but let it fade as Sam pulled his best irritated face. "C'mon, Sammy...it's not that bad..."

"It has SpongeBob on the front pocket." Sam felt justified in complaining.

"You look cute...Kinda like a really hairy Denis the Menace." Sam ground his teeth together loudly while Dean appeared to enjoy reveling in his discomfort. Oh the the things he was going to do to his brother after all of this were going to be epic. Dean brushed off Sam's glare with a grin and waved for him to follow. "C'mon, I called Bobby, he's expecting us, so we better get moving. Hey, I'll even give you a piggy-back ride to the car. "

"I hate you." Sam mumbled after rolling his eyes and heading for the door.

Once to the car, Sam tried to pull open the passenger side door, but it was much heavier and harder to open than his little arms could manage. He looked pleadingly towards Dean who only shook his head. "Sorry...you gotta sit in the back."

"The back? Why?"

"You're too small for the front. Don't want to get pulled over for having someone under four feet sitting in the front. You've seen the commercial with Big Bird, Sammy...Little ones go in the back."

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose just as Ray came up behind him. "Guess this means I get shot-gun." The short man smiled.

"What?...Wait. You're coming too?" Sam asked.

"Hey. If my sister has to go and do this weird-assed ritual then I go too...Besides, I want to help."

"Wonderful." Sam let the sarcasm drip from his tongue, but Ray didn't seem to notice or care as he hopped into the front seat. Dean came around and opened the rear door for him. Seeing Sam's annoyance at the situation reach record heights, he gave Sam a sympathetic shrug. "At least I'm not making you use a booster seat." He told Sam before he climbed in, taking the seat next to Lizzie, trying not to look embarrassed by his big brother's clothing choices nor the fact that he really could have used a booster seat.

It was nearing dark by the time they pulled into Bobby's salvage yard. As soon as he was out of the car, Sam was suddenly grateful for the overalls for Dean had been right for once, the suspenders were at least holding his pants up as he must have shrunk another couple of inches in that afternoon alone.

It was at that exact moment his feet touched the ground that a large, black shape came barreling at him from the corner of his eye, accompanied with deep, loud growls, snarls and barks. A large, massive creature was coming directly at him too fast for him to make his escape and he fell to his butt on the gravel. He could only close his eyes and pray that the giant animal would make his death quick and painless, but given its enormous size and frenzied charge, he highly doubted it.

"Rumsfeld! Down!" Suddenly with a snap, the mean, old junkyard dog was halted by the thick chain that tethered him to the porch and by the reproving voice of his master.

Sam breathed a giant sigh of relief against the thudding in his chest to see Bobby making his way down his porch steps, the dog immediately obeying and lying down.

Dean was by his side and helping him off the ground as the older man approached.

"Damn Bobby, what you feeding that dog?" Dean asked.

Despite, his near-attack, Sam was happy to see Bobby again. It had to be years since he had last seen the older man, but he looked just the same as ever, same scruffy beard, same flannel shirt, heck, he was probably still wearing the exact same ball-cap he had on the last time he saw him.

"Dean..." Bobby started to greet them then caught sight of Sam. The corners of his mouth started off with a small hitch upwards and Sam saw his face work at odd angles as he struggled to hold everything in and ultimately fail. "Sam? That you, boy?"

"Hey, Bobby." Sam could only drop his head and look at his feet, which were far closer to his head than he cared for while he tried to drown out the sounds of Bobby trying to hold back his choked chortling. "Oh, blast it all...y-you didn't...tell me about his voice, Dean...it's just too...tooo" Bobby couldn't finish past his uncontrollable laughter.

That is until Sam crossed his arms and sent his best pained face towards the older hunter that never failed to work on Bobby's inner heartstrings. Bobby sighed at seeing that wounded puppy dog caught in a bear-trap look and his laughter ended abruptly, making him wipe an errant tear from his eye. "Sorry, Sam...but you Winchesters...I swear if I had a nickel for every time you chuckle-heads showed up on my property with the strangest problems, I'd be one bored millionaire."

Bobby then took notice of the other two people that had accompanied them on this trip as they got out of the car, eying them both sharply and none too kindly.

"So, you two are the idjits that did this?" He pointed to Sam and the two of them at least had the good sense to look contrite. "Well, what are y'all waitin' for? Let's get inside and figure this crap out." And like that, Bobby was back to his usual curmudgeonly self and led the way into his home.

TBC...


	9. Chapter 8

_A/N: So sorry it took me so long to update this. Things have been crazy around here with the kids still out of school and my husband now deployed. Hopefully, I should be wrapping this story up soon, maybe one or two more chapters to go. I also want to thank all of you that have taken the time to review. If I didn't get to responding to you personally, I apologize, but want you to know that I appreciate it. Again, sorry for any spelling and grammar mistakes. :D_

**Chapter 8  
**

Carrying an armful of books, Bobby dropped his burden onto the desk with a crashing thump, sending plumes of dust into the air, causing Sam to sneeze and Dean to groan out loud. Did Bobby really expect them to read _all_ of these?

"Well, this is all I got on witchcraft and spells. Best get crackin', Sam's not getting' any bigger just sittin' on our asses."

"Thanks, Bobby." Sam looked up from the mound of books, the top of his head barely visible from the other side of the desk while one little hand grabbed a book and pried it open. Dean took one and blew the dust off and started in on it. But, God help him if it wasn't all gobble-de-gook to him. Latin had never been one of his fortes and he'd much rather be chased by a rabid pack of black dogs than try to understand any of what was on the page before him.

"Alright, Missy." Bobby addressed Lizzie while her brother looked around the place and checked it out, a frown drawing on his face.

"My name's Lizzie." She dared to correct Bobby.

"I don't care if your name is Queen Elizabeth, you made this mess, now grab a book and start reading." sufficiently crowed by the older man's ire, she did what he was told as Bobby turned his attention on Ray.

"What can I do?" Ray asked

"You read latin?" Bobby asked doubtfully.

"No."

"Then sit down and shut your cake hole."

Dean tried, he really tried to fight his way through the reading, but he knew he wasn't being much of a help, he rubbed his eyes hoping that somehow that would make the words magically make a little more sense, but it was pretty hopeless. Dammit...why couldn't there be any witches that actually wrote these damn spell books in English?

"Hummmmph." He heard Sam mutter, which in his shrunken vocal chords sounded pretty hilarious to Dean and he couldn't stop the snorting chuckle.

"What?" Sam asked, turning his wee-sized head to Dean.

"What?" Dean shrugged.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothin'...just...ya know."

"No, I don't know."

"Forget it...you find something?"

"Well, maybe..."

Bobby was all ears. "Let's hear it, Boy." Lizzie too lifted her head from her reading and looked up expectantly.

"It's not a reversal spell per-se, but there's a cleansing potion here that's supposed to increase a person's size. Might work...who knows?"

"...And keep you from shrinking into Malibu Barbie." Dean added just because making light of the situation helped to quell the twisting he could feel rising in his stomach.

"Please, Dean... be serious for once." Sam begged, then added. "And I'd totally be a Ken doll, not Barbie."

"You know Ken has no junk, right?" Dean grinned at Sam then had to duck the book flying at his head.

"Boys!" Bobby interrupted, grabbing the book off the floor and taking a look at the page Sam had been reading from. The frown that the older hunter had growing on his face did little to ease Dean's worry.

"You sure you want to do this, Sam? We don't know what this could do to you. It might work, but some of these ingredients... they could have some pretty nasty side-effects."

"Like what?" Dean asked.

"I don't know. I've never done anything like this before..."

"It beats waiting two more days. I could be worth a shot." Sam concluded.

OOOOOOO

So began the prep.

Bobby had Dean and Ray go down to his basement and collect all of the assorted ingredients while he took out a large saucepan and fired up the pilot light on his old gas-stove, while Sam winced as he watched, hoping they wouldn't be blown to smithereens by the ancient cooker. Soon Bobby was a whirl of action, putting ingredients in the pot, some of which, Sam couldn't identify, but soon a smell began to rise in the air. It was an odor somewhere between rotting corpse and ten day old boiled eggs that had been left out in the sun and Sam was beginning to regret finding the page that had this particular potion on it, but if it meant he wouldn't be microscopic by the time they could do the reversal spell, then he was determined to go through with this.

"Well...that should just about do it." Bobby announced, pulling the pan off of the stove and putting the boiling potion onto a trivet in front of Sam. The stinking steam poured into his nostrils and Sam was convinced that the smell alone might have singed his nose hairs. His stomach rebelled and he looked over at Dean, who stood in the doorway, t-shirt over his nose, his eyes were all he could see, but he raised his eyebrows in a sympathetic gesture. At least Dean had stayed inside, Ray and Lizzie had excused themselves to the front porch almost as soon as the potion had started to cook.

"Hurry up and drink it so we can clear the air in here." Dean's muffled voice called out from under his shirt.

"Wait." Bobby ordered then grabbed a couple of candles and set them on the table, lighting them."I have to bless it." He began a latin chant and repeated it three times then sprinkled another herb, which neither Sam nor Dean could recognize on to the top of the mixture. A smoke rose up from the pan, making it smell even worse, something none of them thought was possible. Even Bobby had to pinch his nose after that.

"How much do I drink?" Sam looked at Bobby, pulling a disgusted face. The older hunter consulted the book again then went to his cupboard and pulled out a measuring cup and scooped. "One cup exactly. No more, no less, so you drink it all." He told him then sat the measuring cup in front of Sam.

"Can I have a chaser?" Sam asked as he eyed the brew suspiciously.

"Best if you don't, I guess." Bobby shrugged.

Maybe this was a bad idea after all, but not wanting to be toddler sized any longer, he set his all of his convictions on drinking the whole thing in one go. He just needed to psych himself up first. He stretched his neck from side to side and shook out his shoulders like a boxer preparing for the fight of the century.

"Just chug-a-lug already, will ya? C'mon, just like tequila..." Dean cheered from the sidelines.

"I hate tequila." Sam groused. And with that, he pinched his nose with one hand and lifted the cup to his lips with the other. The cup was big in his small hand and as soon as the vile liquid his his tongue, he was afraid he wouldn't be able to finish it all and he certain that tequila was no longer his least favorite drink. But he persisted despite the flavor of liquid death in his mouth, fighting the urge to spit it out until the entire drink was gone. Once finished, he coughed and gagged and had to hold his head down between his legs in order to keep it from coming back up.

With some considerable effort on the part of his stomach, Sam managed to regain his composure after a few moments while Dean and Bobby eyed him anxiously. The taste still lingered on his tongue and all he wanted to do was brush his teeth for the next hour, but Dean looked like he was about ready to pull his hair out wanting an update.

"So?...Feeling any different yet?" His big brother questioned.

"Ugggg...Yeah...nauseous." Sam snapped back.

"And bitchy, apparently."

"Bite me."

"Give it some time, Sam." Bobby patted his back reassuringly before he began to clean up.

An hour later, Sam hadn't miraculously grown any, but at least the violent upheaval in his stomach was beginning to quiet down some. Disappointingly, he didn't feel much of anything, but perhaps it was just too soon to tell, after all, he hadn't shrunk down to this size in a few minutes, it had taken a little time, maybe it would just take some time for him to grow back, if this worked at all, that is.

In the mean time, Bobby had aired out the house and Lizzie had actually pitched in with making some dinner for everyone. Ray sat with Dean in the living room watching Wyle E. Coyote chase after the Roadrunner and discussing the finer points of the worthless Acme products the coyote attempted to use to catch the roadrunner while sipping on beer.

There wasn't much for Sam to do except wait.

He thought of himself as a usually patient sort of guy, but this was killing him, just sitting around, waiting for whatever to start happening. He couldn't sit still, so he paced around until Dean told him to quit wearing a groove in the carpet. Not too long after that Lizzie called everyone to supper. As soon as Sam sat down and a large plate of spaghetti was placed in front of him, he started to feel something.

His stomach began to rumble loudly enough for everyone to hear and he was suddenly gripped with a cramp from deep within his abdomen. Bubbling, gurgling sounds erupted soon after and his face reddened brightly when Dean snorted and shot him and amused look. "Need a potty break, Sammy?"

Sam would have come back with something witty and sarcastic right then if he didn't indeed have a sudden and immediate need to use the bathroom. He was on the verge of an emergency and he couldn't hop off the chair fast enough to race to the nearest toilet, clenching his glute muscles as tightly as he could while still being able to double time it.

And dammit if the stupid little clasps that held the stupid suspenders of his stupid overalls weren't a bitch to get off with his stupid little hands.

Thankfully however, he made the climb up onto the commode just in the nick of time before the cramping hit full tilt.

As expected, a few minutes later there was a knock on the door. "Hey, you okay in there?"

"M'fine, Dean." Sam responded through clenched teeth as another spasm of cramping washed over him. "g'way."

"'Kay, just checking to make sure you didn't pull an Elvis or anything."

Sam wasn't sure how long he had to stay on the pot, but after the cramping had gone away and he felt thoroughly cleaned out from that damn cleansing potion and he finally felt well enough to flush and leave the bathroom, spraying a generous amount of air freshener inside afterward.

Leaving the bathroom, he felt an ache begin to settle in his joints, spreading throughout his muscles and bones, leaving him weary and exhausted. A dull headache sprang up behind his eyes and as he passed by the kitchen he saw that everyone had already finished dinner and left the room, his plate of food still sat on the table, but he was beyond caring if he ate it.

He shuffled down the hallway, the ache growing with each step. He spied Bobby and Dean in the library talking and Dean looked up to see him. At first, Dean wore an amused look on his face and Sam was certain he was going to face some horrendous teasing for spending so long in the john, but one look at Sam's miserable appearance and Dean's face transformed into concern.

"Hey...you alright?"

"Yeah." Sam tried to lie then hitched his finger up, pointed to the ceiling. "I'm just going to go and take a shower then go to bed."

"Ya sure, you're okay? You look like shit." Dean prodded again and Sam gave him an expert eye-roll.

"I'm fine, Dean." Sam muttered then headed down the hall again, not wanting to see any more of the worry on his brother's face. turning the corner to the stairwell, Sam looked up in dismay. From below, the steps leading to the second floor looked like Mt. Everest to him and his little body. But, the only bathroom with a shower was upstairs and all he wanted at that point was to stand under the hot water and hope that it would help the ever increasing aches and pains go away. Sam had to get on all fours to climb up the stairs, each step was more of a challenge than the next and by the time he reached the top, he was panting, sweating and his head was pounding from the exertion.

He sat at the top of the steps for a moment to catch his breath before getting up again and heading straight for the bathroom. Once inside, he struggled again with the damned clasps on his overalls, but managed to get undressed fully. Standing on his tip toes to reach the water spigots, he turned the shower onto full-blast and as hot as he could stand it before climbing in. Letting the hot water cascade over him and his sore body, he began to feel a little better, but just a few minutes in, he was hit by a sudden lightening bolt of pain radiating from the top his head to his toes as though every bone and muscle in his body had instantly caught on fire.

In utter agony, he let out an open mouthed scream, his vision tunneling in on him as he collapsed to the shower floor.

OOOOOOOO

Dean watched as Sam walked away, his face far paler than his usually tanned self and Dean could tell from so many years of experience dealing with a sick brother that Sam was in pain and not well. However, even though Sam was the size of a two year old, he had to remind himself that his little brother was actually a grown man and mother-henning him would only make him more irritable.

No. He would have to try not to hover, even if it was in his nature to do just that, but he would check on him in a little while and see if he needed anything, perhaps the potion has just taken a lot out of him, especially after his marathon session in the bathroom.

He had just concluded that Sam was most likely fine, if a bit tired when he heard the scream come from upstairs.

Instantly, his heart fluttered in a panic and he was running, taking the stairs up two at a time and racing for the bathroom door. Dean tried the doorknob to the bathroom, but Sam must have locked it.

"Sam!" Dean shouted, pounding on the door, but the screaming had stopped and only the sound of the shower running could be heard from the other side. Without thinking and running on pure adrenaline, Dean took a step back and kicked with all of his strength against the door, smashing the door in. He'd worry about fixing Bobby's door later, but right now he had to get to his brother.

Charging into the bathroom, Dean saw two little feet hanging out from the shower curtain.

He hurried to the shower and flung open the curtain. Sam lay on the floor of the shower face down and moaning. Uncaring if he got wet, Dean lifted his brother gently out of the shower and pulled him up to his chest, lifting his slight body up to him easily.

"Sam?" Dean asked as he grabbed a towel and wrapped it over Sam's shivering body.

Sam didn't respond, his eyes were screwed tightly shut in pain.

Bobby was in the doorway the next second with Ray and Lizzie behind him, trying to find out what all of the commotion had been about. "What happened?" Bobby asked.

"Don't know." Dean replied quickly then turned his attention to Sam again. "C'mon, Sammy. Talk to me. What's wrong?"

"Hurts." was all Sam could manage to say.

"What hurts?"

"Evr'thing" He muttered just as he fell lax in Dean's arms, unconscious, but breathing evenly as though he had just fallen asleep, the lines of pain that had criss-crossed his face disappearing.

"Sam?" Dean tried to shake him awake to no avail. "Sam?"

Sam was out for the count, leaving Dean bewildered. "Is this from that potion crap, Bobby?"

"Dunno...could be. Let's get him to the bed."

Dean cradled Sam in his arms, swaddled in the towel until he reached the bed in the room across the hall. Bobby shooed Ray and Lizzie away while Dean dried Sam off, all the while his little brother never stirred or made so much as a sound, it was like when Sam had been a baby again and had fallen asleep in the car. He and Dad never had to do much more than take him out of his car seat and tuck him in bed and he'd never make a peep or wake up, he would just keep right on sleeping until morning.

That's just what Dean did now, tucked Sam under the sheet and blankets. He felt Sam's forehead, checking for a fever, but he was cool to the touch. Next he searched his body for any signs of injury, but found none, which was a relief, but it was still unnerving all the same as he still had no clue what was going on with him.

"What do you think's wrong, Bobby?" Dean turned to the more experienced man. Bobby bent down a little and knuckled Sam in the chest, which caused the young man to stir, but not awaken.

"Haven't got a clue. Could be the potion, maybe this is just how it works. But, by all appearances, it's not a coma...I think he's just asleep. My best best guess would be to let him be until he wakes up."

Dean stayed right where he was while Sam slept on, his little brother mumbling in his dreams at times, but otherwise sleeping as deeply as Dean had seen him sleep since he came to get him at Stanford. The house had gone quiet after a while. Ray and Lizzie were sleeping in the living room while Bobby had come to check up on Sam a couple of times before retiring to bed himself, seeing as how Sam was still sleep rather peacefully.

Dean however, was still worried and determined to stay by Sam's side in case he woke up and needed him. He took to sitting by Sam's bed, his back leaning against the side of the mattress, but by 2 a.m. he was starting to get the slow blinks himself and without his permission, his eyes closed and stayed that way. Dean fell into a sweet dream of Penny Schuster, a cheerleader from a high school he had gone to for a couple of weeks in Maryland, she was seventeen and she had the biggest...

He jolted wake. Something had suddenly crashed to the floor along with a loud thump from above and a deep voice uttering a loud curse. He turned and looked up and up and up.

Dean's eyes flew open wide as saucers, he wasn't sure if what he was seeing was real.

"Holy Crap!" He cried out.

Sam was sitting up with a pained expression, rubbing his head where it had hit the ceiling after he had bolted up awake, the bed underneath of him broken into pieces. The potion certainly had done it's job, but perhaps it had done it a little...make that much too well. Sam certainly wasn't tiny anymore...now he was friggin' gigantic.

TBC...


	10. Chapter 9

_A/N: So sorry once again for taking so long to get this out, I've been super busy with kids starting school again and life in general. I also haven't proofed this chapter as well as I would have wanted so if you spot any mistakes, please let me know. Well anyway, enough excuses, here's the next chapter:_

**Chapter 9**

Bobby heard the crash, waking up with a start. Totally on instinct, he jumped out of bed as fast as his middle-aged muscles would allow, running clad only in his boxers down the hall to the room where Sam and Dean were sleeping, bursting through the door moments later and stopping cold in his tracks.

"Holy mother of..." He gaped at the sight that greeted him.

"Shit, Bobby!" Dean jumped at the sight of Bobby bursting into the room in only his underwear, his whiter than white belly sticking out in sharp contrast to the red, white and blue-starred boxers. Dean gawped at the older man then back up at his brother, unsure which sight was the weirdest he had ever seen in his life.

"Whoa...I never knew you were such a patriot, Bobby."

"Dean..." Sam began, halting suddenly by the new lower timbre of his voice and by the arrival of Lizzie and Ray.

"Holy-" Lizzie began, looking up.

"Crap." Ray finished for her, his jaw dropping.

Feeling much like a sideshow freak being gawked at by a crowd of spectators, Sam was still disoriented by his new stature. Waking up to the world crashing down underneath of him had been shock enough, but then realizing he couldn't even sit up fully in a room with an eight-foot ceiling was an even larger one.

That's also when it suddenly dawned on him that he was naked.

He blushed deeply and quickly grabbed a blanket and draped it over that which made him a man, but not before Lizzie had gotten a good look. She eyed him appreciatively and he blushed even further, his face nearly red as a tomato.

"Bobby, what the hell?" Dean glowered at the older man. "How did this happen? I thought that crap you gave him was supposed to make him normal, not...not..." Dean struggled for the right words and failed before looking up at Sam and waving his hand at him like he was one of Bob Barker's beauties showing off a new refrigerator. "This."

Bobby threw up his hands. "I had no idea this was even possible. Only thing I can figure is that I gave him too much of the potion."

"Gee, ya think?" Dean came back sharply.

Bobby took on an apologetic face and looked up at Sam. "The potion must have been measured out for an average sized man, which you certainly weren't at the time...I should have taken that into account. It was pretty darn stupid of me and I guess I'm the idjit now, Sam... I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Bobby. " Sam accepted his apology with as much grace as he could muster.

. "It's okay?" Dean stared at Sam in disbelief "You're as big as Godzilla, Sam. How is any of this okay?"

"Dean...Not helping" Sam grumbled, then glared at his brother before turning back to Bobby.

"So. How do we fix this?" Dean asked.

"I'll have to go through the book again..." Bobby replied and scratched his head. "There might be a reversal spell or potion. Chances are that it will most likely send you back to the same size you were before you drank the first potion though, and who can even guess at the correct amount you would have to take now that you're so...enormous."

Sam nodded wearily, his neck was starting to cramp up from the scrunched posture he had to take in order to fit in the room and suddenly being back to toddler-size didn't seem all that unappealing. But then again, if the reversal potion was as bad as the last one and included the same side effects, he wasn't sure he wanted to go through that again. So he began to think and ponder on the problem, his mind spinning through possible solutions only to be interrupted by Ray clearing his throat.

"Hey guys... I got an idea." He announced tentatively to the group and all eyes turned to the diminutive man.

"Wow. That must have hurt." Dean snorted and Sam nudged him in the arm with his elbow, but with added size came added strength and knocked his smaller, big brother off of the bed and onto the floor, landing hard on his ass.

"Hey! watch it, Colossus." Dean rubbed his butt and scowled as he got back up.

"Well, Spill it, Boy." Bobby grumbled impatiently, ignoring Sam and Dean's antics.

Although no one expected any deep revelations to come out of his mouth, any suggestions were better than none and Ray had everyone's attention. He grinned and started in on his plan.

"So...what if we have Lizzie here just, ya know..recast that spell she put on him the first time?"

Ray was met with four dumbfounded expressions, but kept going anyway. "I mean, he got smaller without him getting sick or hurt or nothin', right?. Then we can still, ya know...do the whole sacrifice thingy in the graveyard tomorrow, ya know, and he'll be back to normal, Right?"

Dean put his head in his hand and shook it. "I swear to God if he says 'ya know' one more time, I'm gonna kill him."

Bobby put his hand out. "Actually, the kid's gotta point. He may still be a moron, but he's right." Bobby turned to Lizzie. "Go get that spell book of yours and meet me downstairs in five minutes." He ordered her as he turned to walk out of the room.

"Wait...what are you going to do?" Lizzie asked. "Where are you going?"

"I'm gonna get my damn clothes on, ya mind?"

OOOOOOO

A pungent odor radiated from the kitchen and up towards the room where Sam and Dean sat. Sam was miserable now, every muscle felt cramped and sore and now there was a growing feeling of the walls closing in on him.

"Uhhggg, smells like they're cooking a wet dog down there." Dean griped.

A breeze swept through the room and Sam felt a light-headedness wash over him. He never thought he would think this, but he hoped that was a sign that the spell was working and he might start shrinking down again. At least then his feelings of being trapped in this little room forever would go away. He'd never really been all that claustrophobic before, but that was all before he was turned into Andre the Giant.

"Dean, I need to get out of this room."

"Hate to break this to ya, man, but I don't think you'll fit through the door."

"I know...but I can't stay in here...I gotta..." Sam was getting desperate, especially now that a new sensation was making itself known and he tried to wriggle towards the door, His head hitting the ceiling and knocking some of the plaster down.

"Whoa, Sam...Jeez...watch it." Dean raised his voice, ducking some of the falling chunks of ceiling.

"Dean, please...I gotta go."

"Go where? There's no getting out of here when you're like this...Just calm down."

"No. You don't get it...I gotta _go."_

"_Go?"_

"Yes...you know...pee...urinate?"

"Ohhhhh." Dean finally got it. "Uh..." He looked around. "Hold on, I'll find something. Be right back." Dean grinned from the door before leaving the room. "Don't go anywhere."

"Ha ha...very funny. " Sam grumbled. "just hurry."

Dean disappeared, but thankfully hadn't closed the door on him and sent his new-found anxiety into a frenzy. He concentrated on just staying calm, like their dad had taught them to when they were in a sticky situation. Breathing in deep and evenly through his nose, holding it for a moment then exhaling out his mouth.

Feeling a little better after that, he tried to focus on anything other than his uncomfortable bladder. Dean had only been gone for a minute or two when Lizzie appeared in the door. He adjusted the blanket covering him, making sure nothing was peeking out this time.

"Well...It's done. You're cursed again." She announced a little sheepishly.

"Never did I ever think I'd be glad to hear that." He replied. Sam noticed for the first time that she had no make-up on and her hair was pulled back into a neat pony-tail. Wearing a baggy, white t-shirt instead of the black, goth garb she had been wearing since he met her, she looked like your normal, average girl next door now. Even if she had been a practicing witch the other day, she seemed to have changed her tune.

"Your friend, Bobby seems to think that you should be getting smaller faster this time around because I may have mispronounced and left out a word or two the first time and you'll probably be back to tiny again in a few hours...sorry." She continued.

"As long as I can get out of this room..."

Lizzie took a hesitant step into the room, taking a moment to nervously look down at her feet and Sam could plainly see that she had more that she wanted to say to him.

"Look, Sam..." She started, wringing her hands as she spoke. "I never got the chance to apologize to you and I know 'Sorry' just doesn't cut what I've done. But, it's eating me up seeing you go though all of this. I don't think of myself as a bad person, but I've done a terrible thing and I thought you should know that I really, truly am sorry that I ever even opened that damn spell-book. I don't expect you to forgive me...hell, I guess there are some things that just can't be forgiven..."

Sam let his hair fall in front of his face as he looked down at his feet. He knew all about guilty feelings he also knew that it was indeed true that some things couldn't be forgiven. Seeing your girlfriend die in your dreams days before it happened and not doing anything about it was unforgivable, but was Lizzie irredeemable? Looking at her now, it was plain to see that she had turned over a new leaf and perhaps she was worthy of the kind of forgivness he couldn't give himself.

"It's okay...what you did was pretty nasty, and don't get me wrong, I'm still pretty pissed off. But, I think you've learned something from all of this and now you have a second chance to do things right this time."

"Thanks, Sam." Lizzie's face brightened into a smile.

Sam returned her gratitude with a quick grin quirking up the corners of his mouth for the briefest of seconds. Unfortunately, that was the best he could muster as the pressure down below was growing more inisistant for attention. Just as he was wondering where the hell Dean was and what was taking him so long, his big brother walked in, ignoring Lizzie's presence and carrying a five-gallon bucket.

"This should be big enough, even for you." Dean plopped the bucket on the floor with a hollow thud.

"A bucket?" Sam groaned in dismay.

"What?" dean shrugged. "You can't make it to the pot, so I thought I'd bring it to you."

Sam turned beet red as Lizzie took a step out of the room, also embarrassed. "I guess I should...you know...go..." She babbled and nearly ran out.

"What?" Dean asked. "Something I said?"

"Just gimme the damned bucket and get out."

OOOOOOOO

Sam started to get smaller not soon after the spell had been cast once again. Bobby had been right about the shrinking process being faster this time around and by 10 am he was able to get out of the room without getting stuck in the doorway. He was still ginormous, but just being able to get out of that oppressive room and out into the yard for some sunshine and fresh air had been glorious.

By 11 am he was back to his normal size. Though he was thrilled to be his real size again and wearing his own clothes again, it was short lived as he was shorter than Dean by lunchtime.

After the fiasco with the potion Bobby had cooked up the evening before, everyone had resigned themselves to performing the ritual in the graveyard the next night. Bobby had gone out to his neighbor's farm to buy a couple of chickens for cleansing spell and without the need to research any further, all that there was left to do for the time being was kill some time.

Without anything better to do, Sam and Dean played a round of poker with Ray and Lizzie. Ray turned out out to be a rather good player, even beating Dean a couple of times while Lizzie and Sam pretty much sucked ass at bluffing ( or cheating, like Sam was certain Dean was doing somehow). By the end of the game, Sam was down 30 bucks and six more inches. An when Bobby came in through the door a little while later with two clucking chickens cooped up in a wire cage, Sam was back to the size of a three-year old and getting smaller by the minute.

OOOOOOO

Dean was starting to think that tomorrow night couldn't come soon enough. At first, it had been kinda cute and funny to see Sam reduced in such a dramatic way, but at the rate he was going, was was going to be practically microscopic by the time the cleansing ritual could be performed.

As it was, he had already had to run out to town before dinner-time and buy Sam some more clothes, even going so far as to purchase some ken-doll clothes, should Sam get any tinier than his now infant-like stature.

"This isn't funny, Dean." Sam grumbled as he pulled out a baby shirt with the words 'spit happens' written across it. Then groaned out loud when he caught sight of the hot pink packaging containing the Malibu Ken doll and clothing.

"Sorry...they don't make a whole lot of baby clothes targeted at 22 year-olds, Sammy." Dean defended his purchasing decisions, even if he had bought some of just to irritate Sam and to help relieve some of his own tension. " And hey..at least Ken's clothes are closer to your style.""

" Screw you, Dean" Sam complained as he changed. "Ken is wearing pink board shorts and a fish-net tank top."

"Like I said..." Dean grinned slyly. "More your style."

All joking about Sam's size issues aside, Dean was anxious to get Sam back to normal. So, after dinner that evening, the plan was to set out in darkness towards the nearest cattle ranch with Bobby and Ray. There was a sizable estate only about ten miles away with plenty of free-range cattle and hopefully, a calf would be easy to find and they could be in and out quickly. As much as he did not in any way, shape or form want to be the one stuck with playing cowboy and rounding up the baby cow needed for the next evening's ritual, he would rather do that than have his little brother shrink so much to the point where he had to be worried about stepping on him. Then there was also the fact that he'd have to explain all of this to his dad whenever they caught up with him again and nothing they had tried worked. He could just imagine how such a converstion with his hard-nosed father might go:_ "Hey Dad, I got Sammy shrunk to the size of an amoeba, hope you're okay with that..." _Dean would be a dead man if he ever had to say that.

The sooner that they got this all done and Sam back to his original size, the better they would all be. Especially when it was more than a little trippy to see Sam the size of a new-born baby, walking around, talking in his high-pitched voice and trying to shave with a razor that was almost as big as his face which, when he caught Sam standing on the sink counter, trying to do, he forbade him from shaving until he was big again. That prompted a fresh round of bitchfaces, sullenness and whining about not being a kid from Sam to which Dean countered by reminding him that he had caught Sam doing the exact same thing when he was five and he had cut himself deep enough to require a couple of stitches.

As the night grew long, Dean finished throwing the last of the equipment into the bed of the truck, ready to set off. Bobby and Ray piled into the truck's cab while Sam walked up to him to see them off.

"Sure I can't come along and help?" Sam asked, looking up. His 'spit happens' shirt was already becoming baggy on him and Dean had to suppress a snort.

"If you could see yourself right now, you wouldn't even be asking that."

"I know what I look like, Dean. I just hate feeling so...ya know...useless."

Dean had to kneel in the gravel to clasp Sam on the shoulder for a quick squeeze of encouragement. "Awww, Sammy. You're not useless. Who else would we use as comic relief?"

"There's always Ray." Sam shrugged with a half grin as Dean chuckled then stood back up and headed for the truck's passenger-side door.

"Hey Dean...Be careful." Sam called out after him.

"Whatever, Dude..." Dean looked back and waved off his concern. "It's just a cow. What can go wrong?"

TBC...


	11. Chapter 10

_**A/N: Sorry again for taking so long to get this next chapter out and I'm going to say I'm sorry beforehand for it not being the best I've ever written, but I'm hoping it's still enjoyable. Anyway, I've got only one more chapter remaining in this story and I'm hoping I can get it out soon barring any new drama in my real life. Thanks again for reading and for all of the feedback, I really appreciate it! :D**_

**Chapter 10**

It was pitch black out in the countryside.

Far away from any streetlights or homes and with the moonlight covered by a thick blanket of clouds that threatened rain, Dean would hardly have been certain that there were even cows nearby if it hadn't been for the sounds of mooing coming from the distance.

"I can't see a damn thing...Got a flashlight, Bobby?" He asked as he followed the grizzled, older hunter to the tailgate of the truck. Bobby pulled the gate down to access the supplies he had stashed back there and pulled back a large, black duffel bag.

"I'll do one better." Bobby replied and unzipped the bag. "I took along these things so we won't scare the cows with the flashlights and any rancher that might be out here tending the herd won't see us."

Dean had to step in closer to see what was inside the bag and was nearly pushed out of the way by Ray as he tried to get a look in as well. "Dude, ya mind?"

If Ray heard him, he paid no heed to Dean's protests and suddenly grew excited. "Are those what I think they are?" He asked while Bobby pulled out the contents of the bag.

"If you're thinking that they're toys, they're most definitely not. These are state of the art night vision goggles and if you break it, you own me 1500 bucks." Bobby handed a pair to Ray, who's eyes lit up with childish delight.

"Awesome" He exclaimed as he slipped the goggles on. "Just like the movies...do I get a gun too?"

"NO!" Dean and Bobby asserted together.

"Well you guys sure know how to spoil a moment." Ray complained then tried to get a look around. One second later his face pulled a confused and disappointed expression. "Hey...these things don't work- I can't see a thing."

Bobby sighed then rolled his eyes in exasperation before pressing a button on the side of the goggles. "You gotta turn 'em on numb-nuts."

"Ohhhh...wow...now that's cool! I can see just like it's day, except it's all green and stuff. So..what do I do?"

Bobby and Dean exchanged a quick look, both of them regretting the decision to bring Ray along.

"Here...You man the rope." Dean tossed him the bundled-up coil then slapped him on the back. "Now, let's get the damned cow already." Dean suggested wearily, taking a pair of the goggles for himself. Bobby too pulled on a pair and nodded to Dean, letting him know he was good to go.

After climbing over the short, barb wire fence, the three headed out into the field. Dean took point while Bobby brought up the rear and Ray walked between them. Out about at the end of the field, Dean caught sight of the small herd. Several cows seemed to be just standing around, unconcerned about the approaching trio, but he had yet to see one that looked young enough to be a calf. That is until Bobby stopped short.

"Over there." He quietly said as he pointed and Dean saw the little guy hanging out with its mother, showing the same disinterest in them as the rest of the herd.

"Go slow...we don't wanna scare them." Bobby warned. "They may look docile enough, but those suckers can actually run pretty fast when they're spooked."

Dean did as instructed, taking it at an even, cautious pace, approaching the animals with as much care as he would a wendigo.

He had only gone a few feet before Bobby suddenly tensed. "Down! Car!" He ordered in an agitated yet quiet voice. Dean turned and he too saw a pair of headlights heading down the road kitty corner from the field they were in. The last thing they wanted was someone to see three men out in a field with night vision goggles, doing God knows what and calling the cops. Dean reacted immediately, grabbing Ray by the scruff of his collar and pulling him down to the ground, taking cover near a short, thorny bush and getting into a prone position.

As soon as his knees hit the ground, he felt something squish beneath them. He ignored it at first, hoping it was just mud, but the smell wafting into his nose was unmistakable. It wasn't until the headlights of the passing car had moved on without spotting them that he took stock of his situation.

"Oh _Shiiiiit_." He ground out as he moved to get up, the sticky mess attached to his jeans seeping through onto his skin, making the bile in his stomach rise up in disgust. A sucking sound issued from beneath his legs as he manuevered his knee out of the mess he had ended up in.

"What? What's wrong...you hurt yourself?" Ray asked as he got up as well, looking Dean over.

"No..." Dean shot back in irritation. "It's shit, Ray..._Shit. _I landed in a goddamn cow patty the size of Texas.." Still on his knees, Dean tried to scrape off as much of the crap as he could without touching the stuff with his hands.

"Ehhhh...uggggg...so gross." He whined, rubbing his knee against the grass until the majority was wiped onto the ground. "And these were my favorite jeans too..."

Cleaner now, but still smelling like a pile of manure, Dean was determined to catch a baby cow and get out of there as soon as possible and get back to Bobby's for a very, very long shower.

"Ya done complainin'?" Bobby came over to join them and asked. "'cause I'd like to get out of here with the damn cow sometime tonigh- oh, holy mother of crap, you stink like shit, boy."

Dean shot him a bitch face that would have made Sam look like an amateur at making them. "Ya think?"

"Well..." Bobby shrugged. "I guess You've smelled worse."

Dean continued to grouse, but set off again towards the cows. As he drew closer, he spotted a mother and baby cow again and slowed his pace, not wanting to scare them. "It's okay...not gonna hurt ya..." He spoke soothingly to the mother. "I just want your baby..."

As he inched closer, he motioned for Ray to hand him the rope. Taking each step carefully, he took the rope from Ray and made a loop, approaching closer.

Mother cow mooed loudly as Dean came up to her, but seemed more interested in the grass than in his presence.

"Okay baby...hold still..." Dean whispered to the young cow standing next to the mother. The baby cow however, wasn't as trusting as it's mother and just as Dean held the loop of rope with both hands and was close enough to attempt to get it over it's head, it bolted.

"Dammit!" Dean swore and sprung into action after the calf, realizing now why cowboys rode horses-the damn thing was fast.

This continued for the next hour.

The baby cow would finally stop, Dean would approach and try to get the rope around it then it would bolt. Rain had started to fall and mud squished uncomfortably under his boots, seeping into the soles and adding a new level of misery to his already frustrated state.

After one last time chasing the calf and failing to catch it, the three men came up with a plan. Not a great plan by any stretch of the imagination mind you, but in Dean's mind, it was better than running around like a jackass all night.

So, Bobby and Ray took up positions on either side of the calf, flanking it on both sides until the young cow decided to run, waving their arms and shouting like lunatics, scaring it directly towards Dean's position.

Waiting until the very last second, Dean sprung on the animal and tackled it like a line backer. His arms wrapped tightly around the cow's midsection as he fell with it to the ground, sliding for several feet in the slick mud. The calf bucked and fought and Dean had to practically sit on the damn thing just to keep it within his grasp as the mud made his hold on it difficult to maintain. The thick sludgy mud sucked on him as they wrestled there and it was none too soon when Bobby and Ray finally ran up to him and managed to get the rope around the calf's neck.

Exhausted, wet and coated in a thick layer of South Dakota's nastiest, smelliest mud, Dean just lay there on the ground panting while Bobby and Ray got control of the animal.

"Well...Ya just gonna lay there all night?" Bobby asked, handing the rope acting as a leash over to Ray then offering a hand out to Dean.

"I was thinking about it." Dean replied sarcastically, grabbing Bobby's hand and pulling himself out of the mud.

"C'mon...let's get outta here."

The three men started off for the truck once again. Ray pulling the reluctant, fighting calf, Bobby pushing it from behind and Dean following behind as a wet, miserable mess, grumbling all the way.

"When it comes time to off this cow,_ I'm _doing it." As soon as the words left his mouth, Bobby suddenly stopped then shouted: "Bull!"

"Yeah, this_ is _bullshit." Dean continued ranting. "I stink, I'm soaked and I tell you what, Sam had better be his freakishly gigantic self again by tomorrow or someone's getting-"

"No, Dean...BULL! RUN!" Bobby pointed and Dean understood. Bearing down on them was a huge, charging bull. Ray shrieked in a way that Dean would have mocked under normal circumstances if he wasn't so focused and getting his ass moving and helping Bobby and Ray drag the calf back towards the truck without getting gored by the bull's horns.

All three men were running at full tilt now, but the calf was slowing them down and there was no way they were gonna make it before the bull killed them all. Then Dean was reminded of the time he and Sam were bored one afternoon and got drunk watching a pro-rodeo event on television. Dean had teased Sam about being afraid of the rodeo clowns which had earned him a smack across the back of the head, but now that he recalled it, it was the clowns that kept the bull riders from being trampled once they were thrown.

Dean would have to be a clown.

"Go! Go! Go!" He yelled at Ray and Bobby then stopped and whipped off his jacket, spinning around to face the charging steer. He swung his jacket over his head and began shouting, grabbing the bull's attention and distracting it from the others as he ran in the opposite direction.

It worked like a charm. The bull no longer ran after Bobby and Ray, but was heading full steam ahead towards him instead.

He ran and the bull gave chase. Suddenly, he wasn't feeling too confident in the course of action he had taken as the huge male bore down on him. He zigged and he zagged, hoping to confuse the beast, but it kept coming.

"Dean!" Bobby shouted near the fence, helping Ray get the calf over it then turning to watch helplessly as the bull began to catch up to the younger hunter. "Run for the fence, you stupid ass!"

Dean never heard Bobby, but got the same idea himself. Figuring that he had distracted the bull well enough for Ray and Bobby to make it to safety, he sprinted for the barb wire. His legs burning and lungs heaving, he made a flying leap for the fence as soon as he was close enough. He grabbed the wire, heedless of the pain that flared in his hand when he accidentally squeezed a barb and hauled himself over. Just as he thought he was clear, his pants leg snagged on a barb and he started falling, landing rather ungracefully on his face into the gravel.

The bull stopped just short of the fence, it's hot breath visible in the cold night air as it snorted, disappointed to have lost its quarry. Dean panted, still lying prone on the ground, spitting gravel pebbles from his mouth when Bobby came running up to him.

"You okay, Boy?" Bobby asked, whipping off the night vision goggles he had been wearing.

Dean rolled over with a groan and looked up towards the older man. "Peachy."

Dean also reached for his face and pulled off the goggles Bobby had loaned him then watched as they fell apart into tiny pieces to the ground, smashed beyond repair thanks to his little faceplant.

"Sorry." Dean offered an apology for the ruined goggles with a sheepish and culpable grin.

Bobby was not amused.

"Awww...dammit, kid."

OOOOOOOO

Sam stood precariously on top of a pile of phone books stacked in the middle of a kitchen chair as he wrote on the paper laying on the table before him. He struggled to form the necessary letters, his hand too small to grip the pencil correctly, but he persevered and managed to get half a page written before taking a break.

"Whatcha doing?" Lizzie asked as she walked into the kitchen.

"Writing." He answered curtly, frustrated by how difficult a task just writing had become.

"Writing what?" She asked.

Sam dropped the pencil and sighed, rubbing his sore hand. "I'm phonetically writing out the spell you need to recite tomorrow. It has to be said correctly in order for the spell to work and...I hate to say it...but your pronunciation of the Latin is well..."

"Terrible...Yeah, I know. Bobby was pretty brutally honest about that when he helped me re-curse you. I taught myself how to read Latin well enough I guess, but I never really learned how to speak it."

"Hopefully, this will help."

Lizzie picked up the paper, reading it silently but moving her lips, reminding him of Dean when he reads and he couldn't help the little smirk that formed on his lips. She had just finished reading over it and handing it back to Sam when they both were startled by the sound of loud, frantic barking coming from outside.

Sam at first thought that Bobby's dog was warning of a new arrival to the salvage yard, but it was late and it was highly irregular for Bobby to get customers at this time of night.

"Hey, ya think Ray and them are back?" Lizzie asked, going up to the window and peeking through the curtain.

"They only left half an hour ago, so I would doubt it." Sam guessed.

"Well, there's no car coming..." She observed while Rumsfeld's barking continued, making Sam wonder what could be upsetting the dog so much. Lizzie leaned closer to the window so she could get a better look outside.

"Oh crap!" She exclaimed in distress, sending Sam's nerves on edge and his mind spinning for a cause of her anxiety. Funny, he thought how he had only been back in the hunting business for a few months yet his brain went automatically to ghosts, werewolves or some other supernatural beast as a possible explanation.

"What? What is it?" He had to know.

"The chickens are loose and running around the yard!" Sam breathed in relief that it wasn't anything supernatural after them, but then remembered how important the fowl were to the spell Lizzie would have to make the next night.

"Crap." He echoed her sentiment. "How'd they get out of the cage?"

"I dunno, maybe I didn't latch it well enough after I fed them earlier. But, we gotta catch 'em before they get away." she said as she darted for the door.

Sam stood helplessly on his pile of phone books. He hadn't realized how small he had gotten since he had climbed up there and now the floor looked an awful lot like the bottom of an endless cliff.

"Wait!" He called out to her before she could leave him behind to make the perilous climb down by himself. "Help me down."

"Oh..." She ran back to him and scooped him up easily.

"My goodness you are sooo light and adorable..." She grinned at him and held him for a moment like a little girl held her baby doll or a new kitten, her eyes full of that strange delight all girls seemed to have of things that came in miniature form. Sam immediately began to feel uncomfortable.

"You can put me down now, thanks." He said, bringing her back to reality.

She shook her head, her face flushing in embarrassment as she put him down. "Yeah...sorry...it's just that you know... you're so..."

"Yeah, I get it. Can we go now? We need to get those chickens back in their cage."

"Right." She agreed quickly then lead the way out to the yard.

Outside it was chaos. Rumsfeld barked endlessly, tugging against his tether, trying to break free and get at the chickens that seemed to be taunting him. One chicken, the rooster of the two, would come just close enough to the poor dog to send him into a apoplectic fit then dart away while the other one, the hen, was merely running around in all directions apparently without any rhyme or reason.

"Let's do this." Sam suggested as they watched the scene from the porch. She nodded in agreement and the chase began.

They ran up an down the gravel drive, the chickens never tiring as they bolted from one end to the other. Being only about two feet tall made trying to capture an animal only a couple of inches shorter than him more than a little difficult and frustrating. Even for Lizzie, who stood at three times his size, was struggling to catch up to the critters as they ducked under cars and various pieces of junk lying around. When either of them would finally get close enough to one of the birds to try and make a grab for it, it would suddenly flap it's wings and make short, messy flight away.

After what began to feel like an endless cycle of running, lunging for and missing the chickens, Lizzie finally managed to corner the hen up against a pile of tires and get her hands around it.

"Ha! Gotcha, ya little bitch!" She shouted in triumphant delight, carrying the bird back to the cage and dumping it in.

It was starting to rain and Sam was still chasing the rooster as Lizzie locked the hen back up. He was almost close enough to make another grab for it when it decided to dart behind a pile of rusty mufflers. Swearing under his breath, Sam ran after it, rounding the corner of the parts pile while the bird, unaware of how dangerous of giant mountain of rust could be, deftly climbed up the old pipes and canisters in an effort to get away.

Sam climbed up after it, scrabbling for any hand and foot hold he could find. The old mufflers, shook underneath him and shifted from his weight, becoming slippery in the rain but the old parts managed to hold their place until he reached the top of the pile. The rooster taunted him from the summit of mufflers, bocking ceaselessly and flapping it's wings. Enough was enough already in Sam's mind and he had had it with this damn bird. In one quick burst of anger and energy, Sam dove for the bird and practically landed on top of it, capturing it in a headlock. The rooster fought back, it's claws scratching and kicking at Sam's midsection. It's beak came perilously close to pecking him in the face until sam finally managed to get both arms around the rooster and hold it tight.

However satisfying it was to finally have the rooster in his grasp, his joy was short-lived as the pile began to shake and shift from his excessive movement. An avalanche of oxidized metal followed, sweeping Sam off of his feet. He gave out a yelp and began to fall.

Lizzie looked up from finishing with the hen just in time to hear Sam's cry and the giant pile of mufflers begin to collapse on top of him.

"Sam!" She shouted in horror, jumping up and racing towards the pile. Things were eerily quiet and still around the collapsed ruins of the pile by the time she made it over and she feared the worst, that Sam had been crushed. She didn't know what to do at first until her brain finally kicked in again and told her to start digging.

"Sam! Answer me!" Still no response. She began flinging the parts out of the pile frantically when at last, she heard a tiny voiced groan and what she thought might be a chicken bock. Seeing movement from the pile, she pushed metal out of the way, desperately digging until she found a hand then a foot and picking up one last muffler she found him, his arms wrapped around a still struggling rooster. She sighed deeply in relief seeing that Sam was alive and awake, a little bruised and filthy, but otherwise unharmed.

"Sam! You okay?"

He weakly and breathlessly spoke up with a slight moan, thrusting the heavy rooster off of him with all of the strength he could muster. "Just take the damn bird, will ya?"

It was over an hour later when Sam caught sight of Bobby's truck pulling into the salvage yard as he sat on the porch nursing the shiner he received from muffler collapse with a pack of ice. The truck stopped just in front of the porch and out popped Bobby who gave Sam a wave before heading to the back of the truck to pull the calf out. Ray too came out of the driver's side door with a look of relief to be out of the cab.

Sam was curious and wondering why the windows of the truck were open when it was raining, that is until he saw Dean finally emerge from the passenger side covered in mud, bruised and wearing a grim expression.

Sam was on his feet and heading for his brother immediately, but stopped short when he caught a whiff of Dean's reek. He figured that explained why the windows were open in the truck and Ray look so happy to be out.

"What happened to you?" Sam asked, trying not to breathe through his nose as he spoke. Dean looked down at Sam and caught sight of Sam's black eye.

"What happened to you?"

"Rooster...you?"

"Bull."

Despite the mud and filth covering Dean, his face eased into a grin and he began to chuckle.

"What's so funny?" Sam questioned Dean's new found mirth.

"Sounds like we got ourselves a couple of cock and bull stories, Sammy."

Sam groaned and rolled his eyes.

TBC...


	12. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hi there...sorry again for taking so long to update this. I really thought that this was going to be the last chapter but as it turns out, I got one more left. Hope you enjoy. :D**

**Chapter 11**

"Just one more cut..." Dean's tongue stuck out as he wielded the scissors.

"Dean, this is stupid." Sam complained, but he was certain his much bigger brother couldn't hear him. He had to practically shout in order to be heard now that he was only a few inches tall.

"Shut up..." Dean shot back. Guess he did hear him. "I almost got it."

Dean cut one last piece of the fabric with a flourish. "Ha! Heidi Klum, eat your heart out." He grinned as he held up his masterpiece. Sam groaned.

"I'm not wearing that." Sam stated adamantly.

"What? You want to go naked? You got too small for the Ken doll clothes and besides, those board shorts totally clash with the shirt."

"No. But...C'mon, man...it's a tube sock dress."

Dean turned the sock now cut short with a hole for the head on top and two holes on the side for the arms and grinned. "Kinda goes with your girl hair cut, Samantha."

Sam rolled his eyes.

"Hey...don't think of it as a dress...think of it as a toga. Ya know, like you're some kinda Roman senator."

Sam sighed heavily as Dean thrust the homemade garment his way.

"C'mon..Toga! Toga! Toga!" Dean chanted.

Sam snatched the dress/toga/sock thing and sent a glare in Dean's direction. "Fine." Sam grumbled under his breath as he put it on. "I'm so gonna kick your ass when I'm big."

"What's that, Sam?" Dean asked. "You're gonna kick my ass? Awww...that's so cute." Dean ruffled the top of Sam's head as soon as it came out from the head hole with the tip of his finger.

Sam batted him away, punching Dean's finger. His older brother drew back his hand and shook it out dramatically, pretending to be hurt. "Owww, dude...that tickles."

Sam really wished he had a weapon right then. Surprisingly, the garment fit him pretty well and the cotton fabric was warming. Even if it was a dress, at least his modesty would stay intact and he wouldn't freeze. He just wished that Dean had used a newer sock than this one. Though it had been recently cleaned, it still smelled faintly of toe jam.

"Dude...you really need to invest in some odor-eaters." Sam informed Dean, pulling a face when he moved and a new wave of stench hit him.

"Actually, my feet smell of roses, it's yours that need a good scrubbing." Dean pointed to the slightly off-white outfit. "That's your sock."

"You cut up my sock?"

"What? Like I was going to destroy mine?" Dean shrugged in defense. "It's not as if you were using it anyway."

"You're such a jerk."

"At least I'm not the one in a dress, bitch."

"I thought it was a toga?"

"Sure, whatever you want to call it." Dean grinned slyly, obviously trying to rile his little brother with his teasing. Sam wasn't about to rise to the bait. He folded his arms in defiance, cocking his head, unwilling to dignify the situation with a verbal retort, though he had several he wanted to hurl at Dean right then.

"C'mon, Sammy. You gotta let me enjoy this while I can, we only got a couple of hours before you'll be gigantic again."

"That is if the spell works." Sam replied pessimistically.

"Well aren't you 'Mr. glass-is-half-empty'...it'll work." Dean said with certainty, but Sam knew his facial expressions well enough to see the little glimmer of doubt there. Sam's mind filled with images of what life would be like as this size or smaller for the rest of his life. How small would he get if this didn't work? Would he keep shrinking until he was 'Honey I shrunk the kids' tiny or would it be even worse, would he keep going until he was sub-atomic, eventually becoming so minute that he vanished into oblivion?

"Hey...lunch should be ready...you want a ride?" Dean asked in an clear attempt to deflect the tension growing in his younger sibling., offering his hand for Sam to climb into. It sucked to need Dean's help just to make it to the kitchen for lunch, but he couldn't help but feel grateful for Dean's support and he knew without a doubt, that even if this spell didn't work, he'd never stop trying to find a way to fix the problem. He felt a grin spreading across his face, despite the fact that Dean had put him in a dress.

"No...I'd rather walk there on my own." Sam came back, but took hold of Dean's thumb and pulled himself into his palm anyway. "but seeing as how that would take all day. I guess I have no choice."

With that, Sam took a seat in Dean's hand and allowed his brother to wrap his fingers around him gently and take him away.

OOOOOOOOO

The rest of the afternoon was spent in anticipation for that evening's main event as Sam grew, or rather shrank even further. By the time dinner wrapped up, Dean had to cut his sock toga (Sam insisted it was definitely_ not_ a dress) even further and cinched it around his waist with a piece of twine in order to keep it from falling off his inch-high frame.

As evening drew and the sky became dark with night, it soon became time for everyone to prepare for the ritual. Bobby gathered up all of the herbs and candles they would need, Ray wrangled the chickens and put them in the back of the truck, Dean cleaned the weapons (though they probably wouldn't be needed, he always thought it was better to be safe than sorry) then went out to help Lizzie drag the calf from the garage out to the truck.

He found her sitting on the floor of the garage next to the infant bovine. He stopped when he saw them and sighed heavily, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

"What are you doing?" He asked, making his way over to her. She petted the calf affectionately then looked up to Dean with big eyes, tears just beginning to brim and fill up her bottom eyelids. This was just great, he thought. She was getting attached to the animal that was going to be sacrificed that night. This was so not good.

"I wish we didn't have to do this." She started, her bottom lip jutting out. "he's so small and innocent."

Dean felt around his eye where he still sported a nice shiner from wrangling the calf. "Trust me, he's not all that innocent."

"Just look at him." She pouted, ignoring Dean's statement and looking into the animal's eyes. "He was taken from his mother, brought to a strange place and now we have to kill him. Poor thing..."

"You do know the hamburgers we ate for dinner tonight were made from his kind, right?"

"Yeah, I know...but Rupert is different."

"_Rupert_? You named it?" Dean looked up at the ceiling. "Great..."

"Yeah, I named him. He deserves that much." She shot him a cold look. "I can't believe you can be so callous about this."

Dean wasn't too keen on the idea of having to use the animal as a sacrifice either, but it was a fact of life that cattle were killed everyday for their meat and seeing as how this one was needed to get Sam back to his original size, he couldn't let himself or Lizzie get too attached to it. He had to put a stop to this.

"Look...I get that you like the cow. But, I have a brother in the house that is half an inch tall, which by the way, was all your fault." Dean pointed out, growing angry. "We wouldn't have to kill him if you hadn't shrunk Sam. So, yeah. I don't really care about the damn thing. So, let's just get him to the truck and get this show on the road so we can fix up this mess _you_ made."

Lizzie's head dropped and the next thing Dean knew, her shoulders were shaking and she was full-on dropping great puddles of tears.

"Oh Jeez..." He sighed with a whine, wishing he was anywhere but there. God he hated it when girls cried. It made him feel like such a dickhead. "Don't..."

"I-I'm S-sorry." She hiccuped as she tried to speak, stuttering in gasps as she bawled. "Y-you're right. It's-It's all my fault. "

"Hey. Hey. Hey." He bent down and awkwardly patted her shoulder then pointed to the calf. He had to think of something fast to get her to stop crying and see reason. The only thing he could think of on the fly however, was a big, fat lie. Good thing he was an expert at it.

"Listen...this little guy here probably wasn't going to have all that great of a life anyway." He began, making it up as he went along. "Bobby told me that the guy who owns the ranch where we got him specializes in veal production and you know how they make veal, right?"

"N-no." She replied, looking up at Dean and sniffling, taking a moment to rub her nose on her sleeve. Dean had to steel his features to not look disgusted by the mess she left there.

"Well, they take baby calves just like Rupert and they put 'em in a box so they can't move- keeps their muscles from developing and makes the meat more tender." That was the entire extent of Dean's knowledge into the practice of making veal. The rest of what he told her about after that about the calves being beaten, tortured and skinned alive after that was pretty much just bullshit that he made up. "...so, ya see, we're kinda doing this little fella a favor by saving him from a fate worse than death."

"They really do that?" She asked, her tears now gone. "That's just horrible."

"Yeah." He lied again. "It is." He stood up and dusted off his jeans before offering a hand up for Lizzie. "So...you gonna be okay about this now?"

She stood and looked down at Rupert, her eyes still sad, but she nodded her head with determination. "Yeah...I guess. It's still sad though. Poor guy never had a chance either way."

_No he did not._ Dean thought to himself as he grabbed the rope that harnessed the cow and tried to pull the animal up. The small bovine stubbornly sat, refusing to be moved.

"C'mon..." Dean urged while he pulled. Still the calf wouldn't budge.

"Here, let me do it." She insisted, taking the rope from Dean. "C'mon, Rupert...c'mon up...let's go."

Rupert only mooed.

"Maybe you should push him from behind while I pull." Lizzie suggested.

"Fine." Dean walked over and bent down to lift the calf from its hindquarters. Just as he did so, the animal spooked and was soon a wiggling mass, legs flying in all directions until one hoof managed to find that one place on Dean's body that no man ever walks away from without doubling over in extreme pain. Falling to the ground, Dean had only one thought running through his head as he tried to breathe through the pain in his groin: _Rupert must die._

OOOOOOOOO

Sam was surprised at how grateful he was that Dean had decided to stay behind with him.

There really hadn't been much point in everyone coming along to the cemetery. Sam was too small to be of much help, Ray just wasn't much help no matter what his size and Dean had to reluctantly agree that his presence wouldn't be of much use either. Lizzie was the only one that could actually perform the spell as she was the one that had cast the original and she really would only need help in setting everything up, then cleaning up, which everyone agreed was Bobby's strong point and he could hold his own should there be any problems that required the use of weapons and he'd make sure that Lizzie performed the spell right.

So there they were, watching Bobby's truck leave the salvage yard in a cloud of dust until it disappeared into the night. All they could do now was wait.

"Well...anyone else feel like a beer?" Ray asked, cutting the tension and Sam thought, for just one fleeting moment, that maybe the guy wasn't all that much of a waste of space after all.

They began to move back into the house, Sam riding shotgun in Dean's pocket and finding it surprisingly comfortable. At first he had balked at the idea of being toted around like one of Paris Hilton's toy chihuahuas, but he couldn't deny that it was much easier to get around. He climbed down into the soft flannel, enjoying its warmth as the sock that had become his only clothing was now just a scrap of cloth and did little more than maintain his modesty.

He would never tell his big brother this, but he felt safe in there, like being wrapped up in a security world was a frightening and impossibly large place when you were only half an inch tall. Stairs were impassible mountains, the distance from one end of the dining table to the other was an exhausting hike and Sam didn't even want to think about what it might be like on Bobby's floor, it was scary enough when he was normal sized.

But, down in the corner of dean's pocket he was secure. It was almost like he could shut everything out in there, that the world wasn't quite so nasty after all and that there weren't monsters out to get them at every turn.

He was just thinking all of this when Dean's foot stepped down on one of the porch stairs and fell through a piece of rotting wood. Tripping rather inelegantly, he fell forward with a loud curse that Sam could feel reverberating through his chest. Sam desperately tried to hold on, grappling for the fabric surrounding him, but when dean's hands instinctively flung out and stopped his forward momentum, there was nothing Sam could do to stop his own inertia. With a yelp that only he could hear, Sam was flying, then falling, then landing. Hard.

TBC...

_I really wrestled with this chapter as I'm still a little on the fence about poor Rupert...maybe he'll have a happy ending too if I can figure out a way to save him. Any suggestions are welcome. :D_


	13. Chapter 12 and Epilogue

_**A/N: Thanks so much to all of you for sticking with this despite my ultra-slow updates. I'm a little worried about this last chapter as it took me forever to write, but I hope you like it. I also hope you had a great Christmas and I wish you a very blessed and happy new year! :D**_

**Chapter 12**

It was dark...Too dark for Sam to make out anything when he first opened his eyes, but surprisingly he wasn't in the massive amount of pain after his terrifying flight out of Dean's pocket that he was expecting. Somehow he had survived his human canon-ball without a scratch, though he just wasn't sure how yet.

For a moment he just lay there on his back trying to catch his breath and waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. While he still couldn't make out much after a minute of motionlessness, he knew that he couldn't stay where he was, he had to get up and find his way back to the house and Dean.

Carefully he tried to sit up and was at once caught off guard by a strange crinkling noise that issued from beneath his legs when he moved. Upon becoming fully upright, he finally understood how he managed to survive the fall just when a bright ray of moonlight peeked out from behind a cloud and suddenly illuminated his landing zone.

He would have laughed at seeing that he had been spared serious injury by falling into a small pile of leaves if it weren't for the fact that to him, this particular leaf pile was more like a small mountain.

Standing up cautiously, Sam wavered slightly on the unstable leaf. It creaked under him and its smooth surface was slippery underfoot as he moved very carefully to its edge to take a look down and get a bearing on his position.

Thankful that he could at least see clearly now that the full moon was no longer obscured by any clouds, he was equally disappointed that it didn't really help him much. It was plain to see that he was in a jungle and surrounding him on all sides were tall blades of grass and even taller weeds that arched over his head. He couldn't even see the house from his vantage point and he wondered just how he was supposed to get out of this one.

It was as he looked down that he heard Dean's voice and hope sprang throughout him that he might be rescued.

"Sam!" Dean yelled.

Sam looked upwards. He couldn't see his brother through the thick foliage, but his voice was loud and thunderous, meaning he was close.

"Dean!" He screamed back at the top of his lungs, praying that he could hear him. Sam heard his name being called yet again just after that, dashing his hopes of being heard.

"Watch your feet, Ray." Dean called out. "You squish my brother and you're toast."

"I'm being careful." Ray defended himself, but even as he said that, Sam felt the earth begin to vibrate and the leaf shake under him.

"Oh no! No!" He yelled out, seeing what was causing the earthquake. He lost his footing just as a gigantic Nike hi-top came into view, snapping the tree-like weeds near him as it loomed near. The shaking grew in intensity and he fell to his knees, feeling himself slide down the slippery surface of the leaf towards the edge.

Suddenly everything shifted and Sam was grabbing hold of the leaf's edge for dear life as the pile began to move and collapse, falling towards the ground.

"Shiiiit!" He exclaimed as he fell. Sam expected a rough landing and was not disappointed as he and the leaf crashed, causing him to let go and flip over. Landing with a hard thud on his back, air rushed from his lungs and for the second time in only the space of minutes, he fought to bring his breath back.

Still wired with adrenalin, Sam didn't have time to take stock of any injuries he might have from this latest fall as gray treads and a white Nike swoosh from the bottom of Ray's shoe filled his vision, descending upon him. Without a second thought, Sam rolled to his side and out of the way just when the shoe thundered to the ground mere inches from him, shaking the ground again before it kept going.

Sam panted in relief, but it was short-lived when he felt a sharp pain flare in his right shoulder, making him realize that he hadn't come away from his near-squashing unscathed. Sitting up with a massive groan, his good hand grabbed the painful joint, feeling the odd placement of it. From experience he knew right away that it was dislocated and the arm completely useless.

Gritting his teeth, Sam set about trying to place the ball of his shoulder back into the socket by himself, pulling on the arm with his good hand with a massive yank, but the pain was too intense and he nearly passed out. Giving up on trying to pop it back in, the shoulder remained unhinged as there wasn't going to be any way he could fix it on his own.

Defeated and weary, Sam just sat there for a moment wondering what to do next. Thankfully, Ray didn't seem be coming back to his position, but Dean's voice was getting fainter as he grew farther apart from him, most likely searching for him on the wrong side of the porch steps. Sam's only hope in rescue depended now on finding his own way back to the steps where Dean might be able to see him. The only problem with that was the fact that he was completely surrounded by grass and massive weeds so tall that he couldn't even see the top and he was utterly lost that he could only guess at which way was the right way to go in this forest.

Despite all of that, he had no desire the just sit there and wait for the spell to work and for him to grow bigger. Who even knew if it was going to work anyway? So, steeling his nerves against the pain that was guaranteed to come when he tried to stand, Sam grunted and swore heavily as he made his way to his feet, swaying a little as black spots sparkled across his eyes. He panted, breathing away the dizziness that the sudden change in position brought with it.

In the distance he heard Dean say "Get me a flashlight, will ya?"

Sam turned his head in the direction Dean's voice was coming from and bid his feet to move towards it. He weaved between tall stalks of grass and walked over the dried and crumbled remains of leaves holding his numb and limply hanging arm with his hand.

It was slow going dresses as he was in only his sock-dress and without the protection of shoes on his feet. Adding to that, his shoulder was threatening to kill him with pain each time his moved it in the slightest, but eventually he spied a clearing where the grass and weeds began to thin out and he could clearly see the solid wood that had to belong to the side of the porch steps. Following his brother's voice, he let out a whoop of relief when he could see the beam of a flashlight dancing and bobbing around straight ahead of him. He knew for sure now that he was at least heading in the right direction.

Sam was about three-quarters of the way to the steps when a sound behind him caught his attention and sent the hairs on the back of his head standing on end. Stopping cold in his tracks, he heard the sound again and spun around, gulping audibly.

"SSSSSSSS."

Coming out from the shadows of the weeds, the massive head of a garter snake burst forward, it's tongue darting and waving from its mouth. Startled and stunned, Sam was frozen for a fraction of a second while it hissed again. It took a moment after seeing the collossus approach before instinct kicked in and the next thing he knew, he was running. Unfortunately, it was following him.

Try as he might to out-run the snake closing in on him, he tripped over some broken twigs on the way and stumbled, landing on his knees and then on his injured shoulder. He cried out in pain and rolled onto his back. The snake was already upon him and in a flash of horrible imagination, Sam saw himself being swallowed whole and slowly digested by it.

Looming over him, the snake reared up, ready to strike and pounce on him at any moment. Sam couldn't think of a more ridiculous way to die; being eaten by a garter snake, but he wasn't about to let that happen. Practically without thinking, Sam's good hand reached out and grabbed the twig he had just tripped on. Though normally, the twig would have been the size of his pinkie finger, in his present form the thing was massive and it would have been far easier to wield had he the use of both of his hands, but the huge amount of adrenalin coursing through his veins and increasing his strength turned it into the perfect weapon. Swinging it wildly, Sam aimed for the snake's eye.

Sam couldn't have hoped for a better strike as the twig hit home and knocked the snake on the side of the head. The only problem was that it didn't seem to make much of a difference except to make it angry. The snake merely shook off the beating and focused again on making Sam its dinner.

"Crap." Sam muttered as he scrambled backward and swung the stick once again, hoping it might ward off the snake's advancement, but feeling his energy wane, Sam knew that he wouldn't be able to hold off the snake much longer with his one-handed swings. He would have to think of something else soon.

Struggling to his feet, Sam's only option was to run away again. He didn't have much of a chance of escape seeing as how the snake moved much faster and easier over the rough terrain than he ever could, but he didn't have much of a choice. His only hope lay in making it to the steps and it was going to have to be the sprint of his life.

Gripping the stick tight, Sam hefted the weapon and this time around instead of just swinging it, he threw it as hard as he could at the slithering beast, hoping that it might at least distract the thing long enough for him to get a head start.

The twig flew from his hand and struck the snake once again, causing it to knock its head to the side. Sam wasted no time after that taking off into a dead run, desperately making a break for the stairs that now seemed so far away.

His chest heaved as he panted and ran, his lungs burning and his leg churning lactic acid into his muscles until they screamed and tightened with pain, but he was unwilling to give up. He was nearing his goal and was almost out of energy and strength to make it much further when he felt a nip at his ankle that upended him. Falling forward, fangs sank into his leg and he felt himself being hoisted upward until he was hanging suspended upside down.

No matter how much he flailed and twisted, the snake held him tight in its mouth. Sam knew it wouldn't be long now before the animal finished the job and swallowed him completely. Seeing how fruitless it would be fight any longer, Sam squeezed his eyes shut and prayed that the end would be quick.

Abruptly, he felt and heard a strange and sickening crunching noise. At first, he was certain that was the sound of his own bones being noshed on by the snake, but when no pain followed the sound, he realized that it wasn't coming from him, but from the snake.

In that same instant, a confusing and baffling array of events occurred in the space of just a few moments. From upside down, he caught sight of the lower half of the snake disappearing under a giant leather boot followed by an enormous hand reaching down and grabbing the snake by the back of the head, squeezing the sides of it jaws in order to get them to open them up.

"Let him go, you bitch." A voice boomed all around him.

"Dean?" Sam shouted to his brother and rescuer.

At once the snake released Sam and he was falling yet again, this time mercifully landing on something soft which he immediately recognized as a hand. Though his descent was rather gentle this time around compared to his last two falls, it didn't stop him from jarring his injured shoulder again. Sam felt the joint shift, click then slam back into its socket, causing him to yelp out in blinding pain.

"Shit, Sammy! You okay?" Dean asked, lifting his hand with Sam in it to his face in order to get a better view of his little brother.

Panting and whimpering, Sam had no air left in his lungs to respond with anything other than a shake of his head. Looking up into Dean's massive, worried face and feeling his hot breath hit him like a gale force wind, Sam took a moment to let the pain in his battered joint subside and his heart rate to fall before he found his voice and could show his brother that he was okay now.

"Dean...breath mints...they're your friend."

OOOOOOO

Bobby sighed heavily yet again as Lizzie wiped tears from her eyes and sniffled. Honestly...he didn't see what the big deal was. He knew she was still upset about the animal sacrifices they had to make that night, but the spell had gone as well as they could have hoped and there was a good chance that by the time they got back to his house, Sam would be back to full size, so he figured the crying would have stopped by now.

However, she was a civilian and a city dweller, he reminded himself. Most likely her only experience with animals were cute,0- fluffy kitty cats and puppy dogs. She never had to wring a chicken's neck or kill a cow if she wanted meat on her table like he had when he was growing up on his daddy's ranch.

Even so...the carrying on was getting to Bobby and he just wished she would get over it already.

Heaving another sigh and rolling his eyes, Bobby took a little pity on the girl and pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, handing it over to her.

"Here." He offered. Lizzie looked at the small square of cloth as if it carried the plague, her face unable to conceal her disgust which only made Bobby's irritation increase. "It's clean. I promise I haven't used it to blow my nose."

"No thanks." She declined.

"Fine." Bobby whipped the thing back and stuffed it in his pocket. "Suit yerself."

Not another word was spoken between the two until the reached his place and for that Bobby was glad. He didn't care for small talk and he was anxious to get back and check on the boys and see for himself whether the spell had worked or not. Plus, he didn't much care for this girl and her brother. They had both dared to mess with Sam and even though the kid wasn't his own son, he and Dean were the closest he would ever come to having children and he would do anything to protect them, especially now that their father was missing. They might both be grown men and capable hunters, but they both still needed guidance and if John wasn't going to be there for that, then he would.

Pulling into the salvage yard, Bobby stopped the truck in front of the house and got out, heading directly for the door. Lizzie followed after him close at his heels.

Bobby had really hoped that when he opened the door, a towering Sam would be greeting him. Instead, he found Ray racked out in his lay-z-boy, snoring noisily while Dean sat in front of the couch with the coffee table pulled up in front of him folding a tiny piece of cloth.

"Hold still, Sam." Dean ordered and Bobby had to look closer in order to see a still shrunken Sam sitting on top of a pile of books with Dean trying to maneuver the cloth around his shoulder. Dean huffed in frustration when he tried to tie the corners of the cloth together, his fingers too large to get the job done properly.

"Dammit."

Bobby couldn't hear Sam clearly, but he could plainly see the kid's own irritation as he gestured and frowned.

"No. It's not 'fine'... you dislocated it and I need to make sure its stabilized. So, will you just let me do this?"

Dean must not have heard Bobby and Lizzie walk in, but Bobby wasn't about to let all of this go unexplained. "What in the Hell is going on?" He demanded to know. "What happened to Sam?"

Spinning around, Dean looked surprised to see him as if he had forgotten that he and Lizzie had just gone out to an abandoned cemetery at midnight to perform a crazy-assed spell that might grow Sam back to his original size.

"Bobby...you guys are back alread-" Dean's face dropped in disappointment just before he flipped his head back to his still tiny brother. "Awww...dammit all."

Bobby could almost feel the mood in the room drop, all except for Ray, who snorted in his sleep. Seeing Sam's head fall however, was the most heartbreaking and Bobby didn't have a clue as to how he could make things any better.

OOOOOOOO

Sam couldn't cover his emotions as they overwhelmed him and he let his disappointment show. Bobby was back with Lizzie, they had performed the spell, but he was still as small as ever and quite possibly, he was going to be like this forever. Sam could feel a pit opening up in his gut that physically turned his stomach and made him feel nauseous.

"Hey now...it ain't over, kid." Bobby stated as he walked over to the coffee table and crouched to his level. "Just because you didn't poof back to your enormous self the second the spell was finished doesn't mean that it still won't happen."

"I know, Bobby." Sam replied dejectedly when Bobby was close enough to him where he could be heard. "But you would think that I would feel something by now or I might have grown an inch or two...I think we might just have to face it... I'm stuck like this."

"Don't even go there..." Dean interjected sternly. "We'll figure out a way to fix this, okay?"

Wearily Sam nodded his head, but he couldn't force himself to believe in his brother's conviction. His shoulder ached, his head pounded and now his stomach was doing back-flips just thinking about living the rest of his life the size of a thumbtack and there wasn't anything he, Bobby or Dean could do about it.

Dean once again took up the piece of cloth he had cut up to use as a sling for Sam's arm and made to give wrapping the appendage one more try, but Sam shrugged him off.

"Don't bother, Dean."

"Sam..." Dean sighed in exasperation, but Sam was so tired of all of this; sick of being so small and needy.

"No...It's fine. Just leave it alone, okay? I feel fin-" Sam's rant was cut short by a sudden and unexpected wind filling the room that caught everyone off-guard. Chaos erupted, books flew off the shelves and loose papers became airborne, swirling throughout the room.

"What the-" Bobby began while at the same time the growing wind blew the hat off his head, causing his and everyone else's hair to whip around their faces. Lizzie shrieked as she ducked for cover behind a chair when a book came sailing towards her but failed to dodge a flying newspaper to the face.

Sam jumped to his feet, but was almost unable to remain upright when the wind seemed to focus all of its energy on surrounding him. He couldn't hear anything beyond the roar of the wind in his ears, but he could see the fear on everyone else's face that undoubtedly had to mirror his own.

A strange sensation then began to swirl about him starting from his toes and working its way up to his head. A wave of nausea that only grew with every breath took hold after that and in the space of seconds, that nausea became pain and he was doubling over, crashing to his knees. Fire burned along every nerve, his muscles screaming as though being stretched apart on a rack. Instincually, he curled into a ball and writhed, unable to stop the moans that turned into shouts of agony seconds later.

"Sam!" Dean exclaimed, scooping him up in his hand, but unable to help his little brother beyond just holding him. "What do we do, Bobby?" Dean turned to the older hunter, desperately frightened and looking for a way to ease his little brother's pain, but the older hunter had no clue.

In Dean's hand, Sam's body started to grow hot...very hot... to the point where he was nearly burning Dean's palm. He had no choice but to lay Sam back down on the coffee table and as he did so, Sam body actually started to glow. Dean's jaw dropped in shock while Sam grew brighter and brighter, filling the room with a blinding light.

Sam screamed a blood curdling wail. Helplessly, Dean squeezed his eyes tightly shut when the light became too intense. Just when he thought his corneas might melt from the inescapable and penetrating light through his eyelids, it was suddenly gone. The wind disappeared, books fell from mid air to the floor and all that was left was silence. Cautiously, Dean opened his eyes, afraid that his first sight might be of Sam laying dead on the table.

Instead, he was greeted with the best possible outcome. On the coffee table, long arms and legs dangled over the sides and a floppy-haired head started to lift up with a groan.

"Holy crap!" Dean muttered, stunned but feeling a smile starting to spread across his face.

"Dean?" Sam lifted himself up to his elbows and looked around in confusion. He stopped cold then looked down at his large hands, lifting them up in amazement and wonder.

Grinning broadly now, Sam looked up to Dean, who was still trying to pick his jaw off the floor.. "Wow...I almost forgot how ginormous you really are. You okay?"

"Yeah...I feel fine. Pain's gone...even my shoulder feels fine." Sam glanced back down at his body, his elation and relief evident, but short lived as he realized he was completely naked. In a mini-panic and reddening like a tomato, he looked around anxiously for something... anything to cover him. All he could find was a book which he managed to strategically place just as Lizzie and Bobby's heads poked out from behind the places where they had ducked for cover.

In that moment there was a snort that reverberated across the room from the direction of Bobby's recliner. Ray opened his eyes and glanced about blearily before stretching and yawning, stopping suddenly when he caught sight of the room and everyone's stunned faces and mussed up hair.

"Dude...what'd I miss?"

OOOOOOOO

**Epilogue**

Easing the Impala into a parallel parking spot next to Lizzie and Ray's apartment, Dean killed the engine and turned his head to look into the backseat.

"Well...this it guys." He told Lizzie and Ray. Sam also turned his head to watch as the brother and sister opened their doors and stepped out. Lizzie walked around the back of the car and joined Ray on the sidewalk where he approached Sam's open window.

"Thanks for the ride back." Ray started and Lizzie nodded in agreement.

"Well, we still have a job to do here in town." Dean came back. "We didn't exactly get to check into it before you two came along."

"Yeah...sorry 'bout that." Ray apologized yet again somewhat glibly. "But hey...at least you're huge again." He pointed out to Sam.

Sam's only response was a roll of his eyes.

Lizzie took that chance to step forward. Since becoming big again, she'd been stealing long, appreciative looks at Sam that frankly unnerved him, but this time she took a bold move and put her hand over his arm. She may have cleaned up her act, gotten rid of the goth makeup and clothing and showed that she was sincerely sorry for casting a spell on him, but Sam wouldn't ever be able to like her back in that way. He shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat hoping that might show her that he wasn't at all interested in her in that way. She sort-of took the hint and pulled her hand back.

"You know...you guys could stay here with us while you're in town..." She offered.

"Uh...thanks but..." Sam started, but let Dean finish for him after he turned to his older brother with a pleading look that said 'help-me'.

"Yeah...that would be a hell-to-the-no." Dean answered frankly, leaning slightly over Sam to look Lizzie and Ray in the eyes to show them both that he was serious. "No offense, but we need to move on and to be perfectly honest with you...we just don't like you two very much."

Lizzie and Ray both looked a little taken aback by that, so Dean continued. "I mean, c'mon...you shrunk my little brother and we've had to drag you two to South Dakota and back to fix him. So, sorry if we don't add you to the Christmas card list." Dean still wasn't finished, focusing the next part of his rant on the smaller of the two siblings.

"And here's another thing. You know, Ray...maybe the reason you have trouble finding a steady job isn't because of your size, but because your as dumb as a bag of rocks...so, go back to school, man. Quit smoking dope, then maybe you can get some meaningful work." He then shifted his attention to Lizzie. "And you...look, I know Sam may be good-looking and tall... maybe even almost as good-looking as me...but he ain't interested, sister."

"Yeah...But you can't blame a girl for trying." Lizzie looked down at her feet and Ray looked equally as abashed at Dean's brutally honest opinion.

"But hey..." Dean added, taking some of the edge out of his voice and starting the car's engine. "It's not too late for you two if you stay on the straight and narrow. I'm sure you'll both find happiness without casting anymore spells on people if you put your minds to it."

"I suppose this means we won't be seeing each other again." Lizzie sighed with resignation in her voice.

Sam offered her a quick, small and apologetic smile. "No...but you guys will be alright."

"Yeah..." Lizzie looked back at Ray with a little smirk. "we will." She took a step back from the car as did Ray then lifted her hand to wave good-bye while Dean revved the engine and put the car into gear, taking off.

As soon as they were on the road and blending into traffic, Sam turned to Dean. "Boy...you were a little harsh with them, don't you think?."

"Sam...one thing you need to learn about people is that they all need to hear the brutal truth about themselves before they'll ever change. Now, I may not be the biggest fan of those two, but if we ever have to come back here because they slipped back into witchcraft or hurt someone else...well, let's just say that I like them enough that I wouldn't want to hunt them."

"Yeah...guess you're right."

"What's that Sam? Did you just say that I was right?" Dean turned his head to him with a big smile while Sam huffed and rolled his eyes. "Man, do I love to hear that from you. Say it again."

"No."

"C'mon...say it."

"No. It was a one-time fluke, ya jerk. I'm sure it won't happen again."

"Fluke? No way...I'm _always_ right, bitch."

Dean gunned the engine and reached over to pop in his favorite Metallica cassette in the tape player, turning it up loud enough to make Sam wince while they drove on to their next destination. Not once did either one of them look back.

**The End**


End file.
